My dark blossom,

last night

I saw you blooming.

Each of your petals

made the moon and stars dim

till they all blotted out.

You were happy, weren’t you?

I heard your timpani laughter.

I know

now all the embers under my feet

will turn into soft grass once more.

I will cease to be a fire-walker.




The dark one

I have been waiting for you

for your fragrant moist touch

on this feverish skin.

You are never a mere flower

but my kohl eyed beauty


who ends all desert days.

I will cup

every drop of mercy

from you

to drink to my fill.



*Krishnakoli (black-bloom) is a famous song of Tagore. Protagonist is a dark skinned damsel.



Posted for Sanaa’s prompt: Rain showers my spirit and waters my Soul [16] @ A Dash Of Sunny for her Prompt Nights


Shared with Poetry Pantry @ Poets United