musingmuztoba

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  • musingmuztoba 30w

    If I were a butterfly...
    I would have flown,
    All day long in the sky,
    No worry, no fall,
    No fear to die.
    If I were a butterfly
    But lost my colours,
    And felt sorrow,
    I would've bathed again,
    Beneath the shades of Rainbow.
    If I were a butterfly,
    I would've kissed,
    Every blooming flower,
    And would've known the secrets,
    Of their fragrance and peerless colour.
    If I were a butterfly,
    I would've enchanted,
    Every beholding beautiful eye.
    And made them forget, their misery,
    Bestowing them with a hopeful smile.
    ©musingmuztoba

  • musingmuztoba 31w

    A Lanturne, also known as Lanterne or Lantern, is a five line poem, shaped like a Japanese lantern.

    This form of Poem should be of five lines, the syllable patterns of those lines are 1,2,3,4,1 respectively...

    I have actually composed three of them and put them together to further enhance the applications and meanings of "Love" "Care" and "Share". Hope you will like it...

    Love
    Others
    The way you
    Love your own self:
    Dear!

    Care
    For the
    Nature as
    Your own mother
    Dear!

    Share
    Your heart
    With the Poors,
    Like a true Saint
    Dear!

    ©musingmuztoba



    #poetrywednesday #mirakee #writersnetwork

    Image credit: to the rightful owner. #nature #love #life #poetry

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    Love,Care & Share

    ...
    Love
    Others
    The way you
    Love your own self:
    Dear!

    Care
    For the
    Nature as
    Your own mother
    Dear!

    Share
    Your heart
    With the Poors,
    Like a true Saint
    Dear!
    ©musingmuztoba

  • musingmuztoba 33w

    By the wish of the Heaven,
    We are framed together
    Like that of a photograph.
    You are alive in my heart for ever.
    Lover's absence feels like the Winter,
    But O my dear! I only feel the Summer
    As the warmth and spell of your love,
    Are not transitory but perpetual.
    Whenever I behold at your effulgent eyes,
    The void between life and death dies.

    ©musingmuztoba

    #missing #mirakee #writersnetwork

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    Whenever I behold at your effulgent eyes,
    The void between life and death dies.

    ©musingmuztoba

  • musingmuztoba 33w

    The Lagoon...

    Amid the dark shades upon,
    The languished lagoon,
    My eyes crave for the Moon.
    When the Moon melts,
    In the waiting water,
    Like a band of metal,
    That still surface does glitter.
    My soul; is thirsty,
    Of this ethereal liquid beauty,
    Wants to quench it to the lees,
    To efface the darkness,
    Of my heart and please
    The self with beauty and peace.
    ©musingmuztoba

    The Lagoon by Joseph Conrad,

    It is a short story by Conrad.
    My poem is inspired by the atmosphere, beautifully portrayed in this short story.

    #poetrywednesday #mirakee #writersnetwork

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    The Lagoon

    Amid the dark shades upon,
    The languished lagoon,
    My eyes crave for the Moon.
    When the Moon melts,
    In the waiting water,
    Like a band of metal,
    That still surface does glitter.
    My soul; is thirsty,
    Of this ethereal liquid beauty,
    Wants to quench it to the lees,
    To efface the darkness,
    Of my heart and please
    The self with beauty and peace.
    ©musingmuztoba

  • musingmuztoba 33w

    Talent that imbues intent,
    Is not anyone's lone patent,
    But exists in every soul as latent.
    ©musingmuztoba

  • musingmuztoba 35w

    The Autumn

    It's Autumn,
    Feel her from
    Heart's bottom.

    Her air dry,
    Wipes your tears,
    Kissing eye.

    Embrace her,
    As she is,
    As lover.

    ©musingmuztoba

  • musingmuztoba 35w

    A poet is a traveller,
    On the road of poetry,
    It's full of unforgettable memory
    that thrives for eternity
    Sometimes in the journey
    He sings in soliloquy,
    Sometimes he has a dialogue
    With his peer along,
    In the guise of dramatic monologue,
    Sometimes he pauses
    In between the lines,
    In silence he breathes,
    At times the journey
    flows like the wild river,
    With the yearning to meet,
    the ocean sooner for ever,
    Sometimes it is captured
    And rolls round and round,
    In some dying lagoon,
    Has to wait for the rain,
    to flood it again
    For flowing over the boundary
    To resume that journey.

    ©musingmuztoba

    #mirakee #writersnetwork #journey

    ( pic credited to the rightful owner)

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    Poetry: A Journey

    Poetry is a journey,
    and the Poet
    with the wings of imagination,
    Takes his flight from sempiternity
    To the infinite, the eternity.

    ©musingmuztoba

  • musingmuztoba 36w

    LUSTER OF LIFE...
    I have seen life bloom,
    sprout silently,
    In the cold,
    dark thick skin of lava,
    A tiny foetus
    from Nature's womb,
    Riding on the back
    of airy nymph,
    Wandering through
    dark cloudy curtains,
    And through some
    desert's boiling vapour,
    Protected with the coating
    of sun's radiance,
    Perhaps gliding and surviving
    though the passage
    of frozen Pole,
    Lands slowly with the help
    of feathery agents,
    To acclaim
    the magnanimity of life.
    I have listened
    to the subdued music,
    Of the Winter's
    falling yellow leaves,
    They whisper
    into my curious ears,
    Not about the agony
    of decaying or falling apart,
    But of the harmonious hymns
    of soothing Spring,
    They are happy
    to pave the way
    for their successors,
    To decorate the bare trees
    again with new colours.

    ©musingmuztoba

    Image credited to the rightful owner.

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    Luster Of Life

    I have listened to the subdued music,
    Of the Winter's falling yellow leaves,
    They whisper into my curious ears,
    Not about the agony of decaying or falling apart,
    But of the harmonious hymns of soothing Spring,

    ©musingmuztoba

  • musingmuztoba 37w

    She: A Flower

    Like every flower,
    she had unique fragrance,
    Your cruelty compelled her
    To conceal countenance!















    ©musingmuztoba

  • musingmuztoba 37w

    A Dream

    I conceive diurnal dreams,
    When the morning breeze sings,
    To my senses, of the spirited streams.
    My feelings churn up like milkshakes,
    When I see before me
    languished heartbreaks!
    If I turn their stories into a ballad,
    It won't taste like honey but salad,
    But my emotions go nuts!
    When the world frightens me
    with ifs and buts.
    At that very horrifying hour,
    I remember my beloved mother.
    To make my way like the sunshine
    As I know, her prayers are so devine!
    ©musingmuztoba