My Rose

Anita Bacha

My Rose

I watch you in my garden early morning,

Your petals wide open, yawning;

I tenderly hug you to sip the dew of your lips,

Forgetful of the green prickly tips,

Under your enticing scarlet folds;

A dew of blood on my finger unfolds,

My rose,

Feverishly I blot with my lips

The dew of your lips,

Dew as sweet as lovers’ first kiss.

Anita Bacha

YOUR TOUCH

Processed with MOLDIV

View original post

POEMS 

Life is the most beautiful poem 🌷

Anita Bacha

What does Buddha have to say about poems?

I found this profound citation in a magazine yesterday. I was at Terminal 4 Heathrow waiting to board the AirMauritius flight to Mauritius.

I was about to write this prompt on my blog-

The best part of a journey is the way back home

When I think about it,we are all engaged on a spiritual journey

The way back home and the ultimate destination is the same for all of us

Life is the most beautiful poem

View original post

Honeysuckle

Pressed against his body,

His breath smouldering her neck,

She felt his flower growing,

Impatient,

Wanting,

Growing,

Then melting like sweet honey,

Wetting her wedding sari,

Leaving a broad stain,

And a sweet smell;

Souvenir of a first caress

In a hotel elevator .

Anita Bacha

Writer’s note: The honeysuckle is a sweet smelling flower that grows in bush in many parts of the world. The pink honeysuckle that we find in Japan is the symbol of the bond of love between husband and wife. It also symbolizes devotion, fidelity and generosity.