Moon-Talking (True Story of a Moon flower)

Beside the lazy stream
stretched toes feeling the serene
on a carpet of shed leaves
by the old banyan tree
in the moon shadow , concealed
She sits

Clichéd rhymes of the bull frogs ,
mundane rhythm of the unhurried flow,
breaking the pregnant pause
Amidst a million twinkles ,
a white moonflower , alone

The magical hours between sunset & dawn
while the memories fade away of the day bygone
like a wolf waiting to free a long howl
longing for the man of her night
waiting for him to come soon

In her world of mules & caravans
She, a simple gypsy gal
The hours that bring her happiness
Is , just clouds apart

To a naive girl’s moony tale
as always, listen, he would
Her solitude , her anguish
will seep in to the night’s gloom
Girl’s wit & his silent wisdom
make conversations last long

Auburn tresses that dance at random
and emerald eyes that pierce one’s soul
She , Solana , named on sunrise
who talks with the moon

of the crosses that she had to bear
that sweet smile of the boy with long hair
such nice stories with nobody to hear
"that’s alright I do not care .
saw him shine brighter" she’d swear
(moon dust in her eye, that for sure)

Singing her own hymns
while he keeps the beat
Songs about a firefly
who’d gone missing
lost, amidst the starry sky
trying to catch one falling
eyes shut tight
mind numb
lest the moment
it had to end
(cause goodbyes & farewells
She kind of hate)
savoring the moments ,
smile on her face,
swathed in slumber,
curled up she laze .
While, under the wise tree
a gal has sweet dreams
He steps out of her night
yet again