Her

She is calm,
Holding her gaze at the grass,
She smiles,
While moist buds scratch her paws,

She looks back,
A time perhaps she recalls,
Open arms, She breathes,
A familiar scent as it falls,

She is close,
She is vivid,
A little bit further,
Yes, she is there,

Those wet palms,
Tiny drops sliding under,
Behind this silvery curtain,
It must be her,
It has to be her.

Driving Home In Rain

Driving way back home, I felt something on my body,
Oh a water drop, OMG it started to rain heavily,
Making my way through traffic, I was on my bike,
Like the dripping water on my shirt, I wanted to slide,
I dreamed to drive in loop, time running slow, me fast,
I wanted to enjoy each drop split on face while it last,
I wanted go round and round, making spirals of water,
The child inside me coming out, I could hear his laughter,
In the layers made by dirt of time, He was long lost,
His every memory is now just like a laughing ghost,
It was then, God’s shower grew weak, I got stuck in a jam,
And in my vicinty passed by a young beautiful madam,
Oh how pretty she was dressed, grey top, pink patiyala salwaar,
In my deepest corner of heart she raised an epic eternal war,
And so I started to chase her, overtaking every now and then,
We didn’t stop to talk, I don’t think we will ever meet again,
But somehow, I felt that we are attached, something was amiss,
But who am I to feel, and this thought I instantly did dismiss,
Now I am home, tired from journey, enjoyed the rain,
About to take rest, before it starts to give pain.