Category: Beauty

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Passion- A Cry


passion for writing
Passion calls for attention all times.

Its craving never ceases most times.

It is never deigned as  a pastime.

It conforms  daintily with all times.

 

As passion assumes the form of duty

it surpasses all norms of beauty.

As passion becomes duty

it equips itself with scrupulous bounty.

 

The cry for passion is never alone.

It originates not from the forlorn.

The said cry is never a moan.

It is heard forever in the diligent tone.

 

Passion lingers in the area of decision.

It stands firm in times of recession.

Passion walks hand in hand with resolution.

Charting out a natural evolution. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Beauty Dispassionate Experience Inspiration Interpretation Poem reverberation subscriptions thoughts Wisdom Wish

A Passion On The Go.


passionIt is a deep  passion.

It resembles a recreation.

It creates a distraction.

It releases delicate emotions.

 

Impatiently the soberity arrives.

Delivering  pleasurable tries.

 

Dispassionate it might appear.

Disproportionate it  might send  fear.

Disaster  it  might lay bare.

Digression it might take care.

 

Writing  has become a passion.

 Know not for what reason.

Writing has become a fusion.

Embracing all times and seasons.

 

A few lines a day gives an impetus.

Thoughts lead to words in full tempest.

Words move towards expressions  in haste.

Expressions  give birth to creation in taste.

 

That is how the work of art attains its finality

Allowing the audience to a revel in gravity.

Succumbing to the beauty  in totality.

Cherishing the masterpiece of creativity.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Actions Beauty feelings Inspiration interest. learning Lesson Looks Poem tradition

The value Of Tradition


It is a tradition on the move.

sticking to the values in a  grove,

shunning the deviation in a blue,

passing on with a conservative flew,

implementing a decorum true,

gliding she crosses the avenue like a dew.

 

Her move is  an enthusiasm  lively.

With a charisma she proceeds gaily,

with a stamina she presides sternly.

with a  discipline she conducts firmly,

with an energy she works untiringly,

taking her to the  step of victory. 

 

Tradition is not  only in her attire specially.

It is  found in her speech almost admiringly.

It is seen in her manners all the most specifically.

It is explicit in her character very distinctly.

It is visible in her demeanour most explicitly.

Tradition makes her look tallerexplicitly,  than everyone else totally.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Actions Beauty Environment Experience feelings melodrama Rain

A Melodrama


It looked as if it is going to rain.

The clouds  grew dark as if  in feign.

But the effort  was in vain.

As the expected did not happen in the main.

 

Thunder also joined the game.

The sound was tremendous not to blame.

But the work was only lame.

As nothing happened to name.

 

Lightning stepped into the fray.

The shine was a blinding  in the bay.

But the schedule was not gay.

As everything  indicated an event stray.

 

The rain played  hide and seek.

Its downpour was in streak.

But the entire schedule was meek.

As everything disappeared with a shriek.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Actions Beauty dance Experience feelings Inspiration Interpretation learning Love Melody Nature subscriptions

Ode to a Peacock.


Up on the hillock,

up on the grassy lock,

up over a marshy  block,

up  at the strike  of the clock,

amidst a happy flock,

there was a  lovely slot.

 

 

A dainty entry from the hills,

with a sharp bill,

with a sapphire fill,

calling in a voice shrill,

made its way in a drill,

it was an enticing dance.

 

 

The colourful feathers spread  grand,

opened up like a  canopy on a land,

throwing out shiny elegance in a brand,

the dense feathers  enchanted the band,

it appeared as an action of a magic wand,

It created a  trance.

 

 

. 

The danseuse beckoned the gaiety of north,

it greeted the pleasantries of south,

it solicited the charm of west,

it bowed to the grace of the oriental east,

 exhibiting  a marvellous feat,

it was a concert best.

 

 

Hopping it went ahead,

jumping  it trotted  back,

elaborating it moved right,

accelerating it speeded left,

displaying a nimble footed treat,

it held everyone in toes.

 
Crooning goes round the peahen

singing tunes of love in tens,

kindling the peacock to  dance  in sevens,

enthralling the spectators to a rhapsodical events,

Good God!  it  was nothing but heavens,

it was a beautiful romance.

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Actions Beauty Enlightenment Evolution fresh Interpretation learning Lesson Life style Theory thoughts

The Style.


It is a style of living.

It is a lively visualizing.

It tells a lot of the being.

It is an honorable cruising.

 

The style gives a count.

It writes up an account.

Tells us about the deals paramount.

That adds up to the surmount.

 

The style  reveals the person’s  identity.

It portrays the scope of his  individuality. 

It measures the scale of his  virtuosity.

It discerns his  nature with an assiduity.

 

It is the style that makes a man.

It is the style that calls him a gentleman.

It is the style that hails him  a good human.

It is the style that makes him a creditable man.

 

 

 

 

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Actions Beauty Divine Experience Inspiration Interpretation Nature stone Theory thoughts

Leave The Deities Alone.


The deities in temples  are divine.

They  are made of stones fine.

They elucidate a lovely shine.

 

Deities have sculptural beauty.

The artisans carve it with  duty.

Giving them a lofty credibility.

Bringing out  a design of chastity.

 

Deities are now decked with outfits in gold

They make the deities appear bold.

The shine extols the charm people are told.

Gold deduces the divinity to a mere metallic hold.

 

Silver too competes with the metal yellow.

The mercurial  dazzle dims the glow.

Grace is dimmed by the silvery flow.

Money overtakes purity in a slow.

 

Temples are no longer place of prayer.

They indulge in display of wealthy layer.

We hear no songs sung with fervour.

We listen to talks of  self praise all over.

 

Temples no longer exude warmth.

They detract every one by exposing wealth.

Instigating a feeling of stealth.

Sealing the mind with ill-health.

 

 

 

 

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Actions analogue Beauty Enlightenment Experience Inspiration Interpretation moon Nature Poem thoughts

Analogue Of The Moon.


It is a half crescent.

It looks nascent.

It tends to be stringent.

It has a status regent.

 

It grows with pleasure.

It wanes in  measure.

It succumbs to pressure.

In  a lethargic leisure.

Indeed it is a  covetous treasure.

 

Every fortnight it grows in size.

Every other fortnight it demurely lies.

Its expansion has a phenomenal rise.

Its contraction has defeated ties.

Irresistbly  it has a fascinating prize.

 

It shines in the night.

Emitting a cool light.

Expressing no flight.

Empowering a rational plight.

Indeed it delivers a lovely sight.

 

 

Does it not exhibit an analogue?

Does it not record a dialogue?

Does it not appear as a prologue?

Does it not sound like an epilogue? 

Curiously it is not  in thetreasure, leisure, ressure, pleasure, sight, catalogue.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Beauty Creation Nature subscriptions Theory thoughts

An Exciting Land.


The soil is ever beautiful,

With sand colourful.

White is the colour of the beach sand.

Red  forms the fertile sand.

Black takes up the alluvial sand.

Brown is attributed to river sand.

A large colourful hue is in the band.

Adding a ray of gold to the land.

Fixing a streak of silver to the land.

Enhancing the glow and the glitter of the land,

With fertility, fecundity and productivity all  in a grand.

Oh! It is a lovely  land!

Indeed it is an exciting  land!

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A Red Flower Over There.


It was a beautiful red flower in full bloom.

It was  a pleasing red .

It was a lovely red.

It was a cheerful red.

It was not angry red.

It was not fiercely red.

It was not  dangerously red.

It beckoned with a grace.

It reckoned with a poise.

It depicted a welcome choice.

It portrayed  a smiling face.

The red flower’s charm lasted a day.

The red colour faded the next day.

The next morn it drooped down dead on the ground grey.