Fragrant marigolds
Offered to dead relatives
To lead them back home
tangy spoonflower
with ribbonlike watermint
bladed resinoid
(Weekly Magnetic Poetry Challenge • August 31–September 6, 2026)
Fragrant scent wafts through the summer night
As fireflies put on a light show
Luna peeks from behind clouds
To say a quick hello
Trees sway in its glow
Jasmine's allure
Enchants the
sultry
night
I memorized your metaphors
As you laid me down
And beheld my beauty,
Studying every contour of my leaf.
With gentle urgent hands
you pruned
the cherry-colors of my bounty.
You pressed your face against my petals
Aromatic and entrancing,
I shivered when the warm air
Escaped your lips,
Delighted to taste my nectar
And the dew upon my trembling petals
Showed the efficacy of your masculine touch.
That visit to my garden where you
Plucked me,
From the land of exotic floral,
Like the scent of a fragrant flower
It remains celestial.
As if our fights were not fractious enough,
Look, children have picked up the cue from us
And unless we call truce for peace and love,
Things might blow off the roof what with all fuss,
She complained once, nudged by the lost out sense.
Relax, I said, a conflict has its use,
So has this friction if confined to fence,
Only, it’s a double-edged sword to choose.
Life, what an opus if fights forge out friends!
Thank friction, a caveman found out the fire,
Stop all chafing, wheels would go out of hands,
It can lift humdrum life a tad higher,
It’s friction that dull edges get vetted,
Without, bonds of ties get not well-knotted.
If friction does within fixed fulcrum lay,
But not, were it to rub in a wrong way.
__________________________________
Sonnet | 01.01.2026 |conflict/friction, family, marriage
Note: This sonnet should have ended by the fourteenth line, but for the fact that every wife enjoys her birth right to have a last word, and here she insisted on adding her own couplet.
Orchard
Ripened apples
Fragrant spices abound
Kitchen aromas of Autumn
Harvest
A rare crescent when comes to be,
Moon’s silver so scant comes to be.
No fragrance from some comes to be,
From some a foul scent comes to be.
No use digging into the past,
The same old repent comes to be.
Break mirrors nor try to look in,
Image nigh but bent comes to be.
If ye look in a long closed heart,
The same old scar, dent comes to be.
No matter how backward man bends,
Seldom the past spent comes to be.
Scratch life, it is foul nor fragrant,
Only life in lent comes to be.
_________________________
Ghazal |11.07.2025| love, past, moon, mirror, heart
Ah, the fragrant fumes of paint drying on a picket fence
followed by the grease-stained smell of turpentine on the brush
Though doubtless matched by the aroma of oil spills gracing
a service station’s garage floor
These pungent memories of childhood, wiped clean today
by vastly improved technology, yet linger with me
brazilian butt lift
large explosion may occur -
avoid bending down
A perfect night ending.
After passion peaks,
our quivering bodies,
dissolved in fiery heat.
Wrapped in a nightly cocoon to sleep.
Fragrance dew lingers,
entwined in dampened sheets,
as two hearts synchronize
in harmonic rhythms.
Breathings calm to steady flight,
as sleep creeps,
ending a perfect night.
When wilting wolds wing winters ‘wards one’s way;
When happenstance shall hurry haven hence;
When all the oily oafs shall overwhelm:
Then dine upon and in the finer realm,
Wherein the fragrant dreams shall recompense
Such grim endeavors as besmirch the day.
GOODBYE WINTER
For winter, time is almost up
I take a sip from my coffee cup
The grass has grown very long
Neglecting it for weeks turned out so wrong
Mowing the grass is definitely a plan
And eventually it will look spick and span
Or I could just call a lawnmower man
I’ll hand over the responsibility
Then I can relax and have a shandy
Half lemonade and half beer, that’s how you make it
There’s no need to stir or shake it
I’m happy spring is almost here
It is my favourite time of year
Spring is the time for planting and sowing
Time to watch the vegies growing
All the flowers start blooming too
Spring is the time for everything new
All of the sights and sounds it brings
The sun is shining and the birds will sing.
I'm standing on a fragrant lily field
by the serene bay towards midnoon,
falcons gather by the splashing rocks
with eyes that scare away hungry larks;
they must catch their prey and be fed:
they'll attack with their claws a buffoon
who laughs and breaks the stiff stillness,
stumbling down the shell-strewn dunes!
One can see the wide wings of geese
that flap hard against the spiritless air
before encountering the menacing storm;
they faintly honk over the grove of fir...
then, they vanish from sight to divert fear:
happy was their spring and they did perform
eloquently to delight senses and release
a sound merrier than that of a flycatcher!
The sea-breeze turns into violent gusts,
they roar bending beeches and spruces;
drowsy seagulls feel the blast of incoming rain,
they refuse to leave their haven huddling closer....
thinking it won't last to endure useless disdain:
should I heed the warning and run faster than a deer?
I have a half mile to go before I can defy the insidious threat;
my clothes are getting drenched, but I don't show any fret!
In religious imagery the Rose of Sharon symbolizes the maturation of a Saintly nature. The transcending power of Motherhood and its ability to restore & save.
Forgiveness is a decision
made with the heart
and not the mind
If we are to heal
then we must call upon
the power to love
It is the greatest gift
having the power to restore
and heal
The journey to forgiveness
is long and tough
but it restore & renews
Forgiveness brings love, peace & joy
like the Rose Of Sharon
it deploys only, through purpose and love.
asleep in a bloom
on the lake of pearl moonbeams
water lily dreams
green frog in black night
drifting in rock-a-bye dark
where stars make their mark
moonlight tiptoes soft
on cool petals of the pink
shadows indistinct
colors mourn for hours
at the lake of pearly dreams
observing black themes
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