The Falling Maples- Living Unconditionally- Poetry by S.S

(c) Shilpa Sandesh Born a free soul, With wings to fly, Bound she stands, Entwined in compromises Tethered are her hands with the strings of liabilities, Muddled are her steps, in the lashes of limits and boundaries; She loved once , with all her heart, The tenderness and fondness, that's doomed today; She smiles when she's sad, And cries when happy; The tiny wonder, Is her sole sustenance, All that she has won, as the fruit of love; An emotional fool, And destiny's blunder, She calls herself, The hell's wonder; She craves for that warmth, that unconditional love, A whim for those vows, a desire for that embrace, And, In the hands of time, A puppet she is, In the fate's haze!

© Shilpa Sandesh, And she is here, At last, Ruffling waters, Waves after waves Frilling and flouncing, The white froth, Washing and splashing her feet; Her flowery attire, Dancing to the tunes, Of the humid breeze; Setting sun, The orange and the pink, Partly adorned, In patches of clouds, Some grey and some white; She steps forth, The saline bliss, Caressing her tender silhouette, Reaching towards her waist, Like the Goddess of sensuality, Wondrous and breathtaking, She looked; But, Her eyes sought, for his footprints On the sand; And her body, yearned, to be in his embrace!