On Summer Nights

I still see the tides turn,

Blowing kisses on a Grecian urn,

Walking through those moonlit sand,

The first blossom of spring, hand in hand;

Lucy had something to say,

But her master finds she’s gone away...

With the wind, and with the tide,

The ring was ready for the bride.

I still remember the careless whispers,

Down the lane of mischief and subtle gestures;

The twinkling stars of midnight,

Overseeing many a tryst of scented delight;
A sudden disappearance into the fading gold,

In the blue horizon, the mystery beholds,

Endless ushering of wave after wave,

Memories afresh... I take to my grave.

On summer nights, thus

I still see the tides turn,

Blowing kisses on a Grecian urn,

But, my Lucy would never return,

But, my Lucy would never return.

Unfinished...

I know this will pass,

Only memories will remain at last,

Of some worthwhile moments shared,

A few little emotions spared,

As some stories untold remain,

Some feelings ... Like teardrops in the rain;

We fly high with our wings spread,

Like the stories we’ve once read;

At life’s crossroad, making choices of our own,

Settling into other worlds unknown.

Will the common space ever nurture?

Or, the unspoken make a mark?

Only time shall unravel its course for future,

As I stand a silent observer to the dark.