The begone

Ah the slight breeze flew past my ear and whispered by...
the Leaf that floated down seemed to have frozen mid air...
It whispered to me the story of the sky,
Who had lent it the power of sweetness and of love;
Who had pierced her existence with pity and shame;
leaving her abandoned and tame...
The fury which in her grew...
Out of simple might it stirred...
Her love was valiant and so was her mirth.
Her wrath was fearful and so was her dearth.
It was the desire which in her grew...
The shrewd mind and comely form;
It drew the bold and the strong,
It called the tiny and the young,
It tamed the lovers and the crowd,
The milieu whirled round and round...
And then they called her the storm...
Not knowing it was the pleasant gush
the delicate her; that had once begone...!!!

His eyes longed to graze...

for his actions had sown the seeds...

and his words, now reaped...!

Would I have known?

I wouldn't have known what is behind the mountain,
                                      were I not perched on that shoulder.
I wouldn't have known what is to forgo fear,
                                      were I not clinging on to that firm finger.
I wouldn't have known what is to fly,
                                      were I not hurled into the air.
I wouldn't have known what is it to trust,
                                      were I not sure I would never fall,
                                      with him there.

I wouldn't have known what is dawn,
                                      were I not curled into those arms.
I wouldn't have known what is the colour blue,
                                      were I not looking through those eyes.
I wouldn't have known what is fair,
                                      were I not winning without my share.
I wouldn't have known what is life,
                                      were I not walking the roof slopes,
                                      with him I could dare.

I wouldn't have known what is real,
                                      were I not sitting right by his side.
I wouldn't have know what is savoury,
                                      were I not spoilt with every delight.
I wouldn't have know what is serene,
                                      were I not writing this tonight.
I wouldn't have know what is chime,
                                      were I not thinking of his happy voice,
           responding to my "Happy 76th Birthday" with delight.