Dawn of a New Tomorrow

Come to me, my love

A dawn announces a new tomorrow,

Break off your fetters of pain and sorrow,

Wipe the tears from your searing eyes,

Dawn clears to-day with a swipe,

Come to me,

Come to me, my love,

The sun burns out,

Plunges in the arms of the sea to die,

The mountain lifts on her toes to hug the sky,

The repudiate lover holds on helplessly,

As dawn covers her cries cruelly,

Come to me, my love,

Let us spread our wings and fly

Anita Bacha

Illustrative/Photography/AnitaBacha

Lover’s Dream

My dream wiggles out of the dormant shell,

Like a snail drenched in celestial deluge,

A dream of red wine that fills the lover’s heart;

My drunken mouth finds your soft mouth,

Crystallizes into an evening of dew,

My ardent lips find your moist lips,

In a kiss predestined and long due;

A kiss of flesh, a kiss of blood,

A kiss so divine,

Uniting our body and soul,

Once again in many lives;

A union blessed by the gods in heaven,

Sprinkled with holy rain drops and drizzly tears,

Precious gems thread in a rosary to chant our name,

Cheered by the moon and the stars ardently,

Lovers reborn in eternity

Anita Bacha

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.

My Rose

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

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