• smitanand 9w

    Lunar Interpretations...

    His face a wilted carnation
    eyes filled with longing
    he innocently gazes
    at the moon, to him
    a bowl of milk porridge
    or a puffed chapatti
    freckled in singed scars,
    yearning to gorge it in
    large scoops or morsels
    to satiate the annoying pangs
    of hunger.

    He sits alone
    in the porch of his large home
    deserted of life sounds,
    trying to fill his insomniac silences
    with cricket songs,
    hoots of owls and canine howls
    somewhere a cuckoo sings~
    rehearsing for her solar aubade,
    he casts a forlorn glance
    at the moon smiling on grey skies,
    where he sees the face
    of his beloved long lost and
    weeps quiet tempests on arid nights.

    A little girl, her hair braided
    in lopsided pigtails
    she painstakingly makes,
    her tiny face streaked in dust and woe
    stares at the moon
    from her bedroom window,
    it is her only friend and confidant
    as she tries to survive
    her modern Cinderella nightmare,
    talking till wee hours
    with the empathetic moon,
    sharing her problems as it listens
    till she falls asleep.

    He is whimsical
    and pens quixotic moodswings
    into metaphorical verses,
    oft sitting in brooding solitude
    with a glass of vermouth
    like a draught of moonlight
    and finds inspiration in the umbras
    fleeting on lunar visage,
    the moon is his muse, who fills
    the cupola of his introspection
    with vibrant poetry...

    They are lovers
    on a secret rendezvous at midnight
    seeking stolen moments of passion
    to quench their desire,
    but the voyeur moon
    peers through the fickle clouds
    and peeps through the dark foliage
    to disclose their clandestine tryst
    for prying eyes of gossips,
    as the grapevine buzzes
    with tales of a flagrant scandal
    exposed by a meddlesome moon.
    ©smitanand