#nature_myeternalmuse

20 posts
  • laus_deo 27w

    The lemonade tinged sky reeks of magnum
    thunder and I sip the cups of scented rain diffused in the air. Tulips dipped in vase like wine glass drink the water poured by me in the morning to keep them fresh for a little too long. Behind faded windows, we both glance the clouds ripping apart as their violent bursts of anger collide with the shivering trees. One of the thousand verses of poetry melt on my palms as the orange glow of skirted streetlights smile at me endlessly. The stubborn fragrance of rain coated smiles swallow the clumsiness of the town as strangers walk on the empty roads, perhaps to catch with their duties or just to wander aimlessly. Bubbling train's whistle wave at the summer sun playing hide and seek with the cloud's child.Our hearts, young and naive suppress the violent distorted melodies while soothing in the lap of silence. Flickering the spotlight of a chandelier in my eyes, I utter
    "Thank you" for the nature's delight.

    Monsoon knocked at my door with a bunch of silver birch trees neatly folded in an envelope.

    ©laus_deo
    _____________________________________________


    #nature_myeternalmuse


    @writersnetwork THANK YOU! ��

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    CUCKOO AND RAIN

  • laus_deo 31w

    Skies painted in swift strokes of scarlet gloss is a refugees's camp to my woebegone eyes.The vintage streets drenched in summer rain is a sincere listener to the distant tune of longing glinting in my nerves. A polished truth clasping on the edges of your heart is the renaissance portrait your rose petaled love has painted that resembles my face.

    You couldn't comprehend the pink glow settling slowly above your eyelashes and you were benighted in profound darkness to explain me. Love is a feeling too deep that unbolts the crevices of your soul and constructs a furnished rustic chalet that you carry along wherever
    you go.

    You believed in maktub well aware that time can spin it's pedestal in the wrong direction and so can the person you have fallen for but that feeling dwells far above the naive touch of falsity. A gorgeous gushing of musical lyres that goes beyond the periphery of ordinary. There's no wayfarer seeking truth or fear of being on the wrong edge, just the cresting impatience of confessing your love under the crushing ecstasy.

    The violet linen of night sewed on my lips walks through the hallways of daydreams which have become my sole companion to drift away from the shuffling separation as destiny was too cruel to let us stay together.

    ©laus_deo

    _______________________________________________

    Okay I tried :/

    #languageart #wod #nature_myeternalmuse

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    COQUELICOT DIVE

  • laus_deo 32w

    I dwell upon the rainbow flames twerking
    on the clouds where dragonflies under
    the bronze toned sky kiss their reflection
    on a calm lake sprinkled with sunlight.
    Under the shadow of sage leaves who
    flaunt the raindrops fallen of them during
    monsoon showers, I breathe in the heavenly
    garden of my mother's heart brimming
    with a ocean of pure love for me,
    she's a kind human who cares for other
    people more than herself but plants
    while lilies and red cotton flowers that
    blooms only for me.

    The ancient scriptures inscribed on the tall monuments glittering with gold are the
    teachings spoken by her that nurtures my soul.
    The coos of dove are a prelude to the gentle
    sunrise which plasters it's yellow warmth on
    the grassy meadows, deciduous forests and
    well pruned vineyards.

    Romanticizing the season of autumn in plum poetries, I found a permanent shelter on the
    half moon bridge of winter. In the platoon
    of sestina poem, I am the scorching verses
    of a heart broken poet.

    ©laus_deo


    #roots #wod #nature_myeternalmuse

    ______________________________________________

    @writersnetwork Thaaaaank Youuuuu ��
    Your repost made this worthy ! ����

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  • laus_deo 34w

    The footsteps of spring are echoing in lemongrass and the clouds are shivering in summer cold. The rich soil below my feet is blended with the evils flowing endlessly from the garland of pearls hanging on the necks of solemn prayers daydreaming under the red cotton trees. Perhaps god has refused their passage through the gateways of heaven since they are singing the note of misery for others instead of hope for oneself.

    ©laus_deo

  • laus_deo 41w

    THANKFUL CLOUDS

    Peachy tone of the sun
    rays stroke the canvas
    of mulberry sky as the
    glowing clouds blow
    trumpets for Helios
    who drives the golden
    chariot drawn by
    fire darting steeds
    across the extensive sky.

    Chirpy clouds floating
    in the air with delight
    are greeted and adorned
    with garlands of red
    roses and rich fine spun
    garments by solemn
    prayers that evaporate
    from tender hearts near
    the gates of paradise.

    Thankful clouds stamp
    them license to enter
    through the giant gates
    where they transform
    into blessings and
    rain on the earthly soil.

    ©laus_deo

  • laus_deo 47w

    Light leaks from the leaves of the
    sugar apple trees after feasting on
    fresh fruits and touches the morning
    petrichor sungazing on the ground.
    The holiday lights snore unapologetically
    as the hustle and bustle of the busy
    city is added as a preservative in the
    jar of January juice being served on
    the first Sunday of the calendar year.

    Twenty minutes have already passed
    in the hunting of the novel I left unread
    on Pg 243 last night. I am wandering
    helplessly in the woodland of my house
    with arrows shooting from my eyes,
    hitting on the kladeoscopic titles
    resting on the bookshelf and weapons
    oozing out of my hands, digging the
    scattered clothes and littered table.
    Giggles slice the silence in the air
    and crash on my ears. I peep out of
    the window in the garden to trace
    the source of its origin.

    Winter wearing blue sunglasses is
    sunbathing while resting comfortably
    on the chaise longue. Laughing hysterically
    with joy, holding a hot mug of coffee
    in one hand while other clutched on
    the novel which was the treasure of
    my hunt. I cannot calm the fury
    down while screaming it's name.

    ©laus_deo


    #nature_myeternalmuse

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    WINTER'S LEISURE

  • laus_deo 49w

    The olive leaves whispered
    in hushed voices the arrival
    of downpour as the magenta
    toned sky erupted in rage as
    if the bottle of celestial liquid
    got stolen by devils on the
    streets of heaven,
    black roses slip in the arms
    of winter twilight and rain in
    December feels like echoing
    footsteps of some magestic
    army laden with royal horses,
    swords and weapons.
    flickering flames frolic in the
    foggy roads of my eyes, my
    heart walks on the stepping
    stones to those empty castles
    I once strolled through with a
    glorious pair of eyes sprinkling
    a spoonful of rainbow powder
    in every millisecond of my life.

    ©laus_deo


    #nature_myeternalmuse

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    METALLIC WINTER

    ©laus_deo

  • laus_deo 58w

    I stared at the sluggish coconuts snooring in the shelter home owned by fresh green leaves glistening the pink glow of a baby's face, feet submerged in the warm sand like a half melted candle standing on a wooden table. I smiled at the glance of the beloved sun bathing my face in the pleasant rays of summer sunset while the breeze of dusk whispered a handful of secrets from the box echoing melodies of white pigeons who were exploring the vast orange sky while my eyes dived in the pool of magical charm of the sea waves.

    ©laus_deo


    #nature_myeternalmuse

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  • laus_deo 65w

    Dusk drenched in lavender blossomed canister slowly diffuses in my eyes, resting upon the snowflake clouds as they unfurl the magenta
    carpet on the rooftop of my house.I breathe solace air leaked from keys of the grand piano being played in the high school drama of young rainbow. Monsoon dances on the castle of crimson sky, wiping off the dried leaves of cruel summer.

    Tempest slips it's fingers in brass knuckles and
    punches on the curtained windows. A whirlpool
    of fallen leaves in my velvety lawn waves at it.

    Boiling the half baked sunlight with basil and rosemary on a low flamed gas stove, raindrops
    creep from the backyard wearing the smile of a mischievous child. Drunk on the claret wine of lightning and, thunder stumbles on the hallway
    weeping and screeching it's grief-stricken
    love tale that no one wants to hear.

    Drizzle walks upon the ground like a damsel
    holding her stunning gown laced with ribbons
    and rosettes.Her pristine touch unlocks a caged
    bird called petrichor from beneath the soil which dissolves mystical charm all around. An explosion occurs when cargo ships loaded with grenade rainfall drowns in a shipwreck of hailstorm.

    Monsoon staggers on my shoulders as raindrops slide from my loosely tied hair. A sanguine smile lingers on my lips as I receive the reply to my letter of love that I had wrote during the midday summer time when my heart was wrapped around a paper boat of our nostalgic memories.

    ©laus_deo

    _____________________________________________


    #nature_myeternalmuse

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    Monsoon dances on the castle of crimson sky,
    wiping off the dried leaves of cruel summer.
    ©laus_deo

  • laus_deo 67w

    The silken skies- an ornate labyrinth of
    chiffon stars,walnut moon and classic silence
    was my perfect muse that night,
    I intended not to write a sad poetry
    but it turned the intense of all as if
    stroked with fine layers of darkness.

    My eyes traced dew drops of tears.
    melting from edges of the wrinkled paper,
    words strangulated to bleed pure grief,
    perhaps the bottled pain of a troubled soul
    leaked from the secret closet of the moon
    and slowly dissolved in the waterfall of
    moonlight I was filling in my pen to write
    fushsia toned poetry;
    someone's tinkling droplet lurking in
    the 105th floor of the skyline fell and
    landed between my words scattering
    tiny wildflowers of pain.

    Many eyes are captured by the
    starry night and caramelised tranquillity,
    but some eyes only see the patches of
    blackness loitering between the
    luminous bulbs;
    The night sky is a graveyard for the
    weeping souls who empty buckets of
    pain and dump it,
    only to get refilled again and again.

    ©laus_deo

    ______________________________________________


    #nature_myeternalmuse



    Thank you ! @writersnetwork

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    Secrets that breathe in the hidden
    pockets of the vast sky are now
    elegant metaphors of my sad poetry
    blaring the sirens of melancholy.
    ©laus_deo

  • laus_deo 69w

    Violet ringlets dangled over the shoulders of caramel dusk, sicklemen were reaping silvery stars
    in orchards and clustering vineyards of skies.
    Green vibrant eyes of an old man blended with
    the creeking of a bronze door amidst the clouds.
    He placed the hot mug of authentic Turkish
    coffee on the rosewood table and placed the
    tip of one finger against the point of his chin,
    laid the head over to one side and gave a
    solemn smile.We sat in silence for a full minute while the air between us gulped sand sacks,
    got heavier as if we both wanted to speak
    and yet had nothing to say.

    The drowsy sun glinted off the sleek roof
    of my house like a high velocity train racing skywards, standing on the threshold of a
    spectacular door waved at me.People think
    the faint dispersed rays at twilight captures
    my heart.Little do they know the profound
    loneliness that shelters in my iris gazing it's
    last glimpse when the sun wipes off it's
    warmth scattered around and darkness rains
    from the clouds like liquid charcoal stealing
    the night upon daylight.
    The moon appeared in a smokey quartz
    Rolls Royce car with his fellow luminous
    stars,attired in glittery clothes and invited
    all sort of people from earth to join them
    amidst the neon lights and throbbing music
    in the nightclub.A part of the luminous sun -
    the moon swayed with brimming pride.

    My sleepy jar dropped on the tiled floor, broken
    upon the warm shaft of sunlight that filtered
    down the glassy windows .The everloving
    hands caressed my hair and the coo of woodpigeons polished the marble morning
    with rising tempo in my arched smile gazing
    the shimmery silver hair of the old man.
    His visage reflected a lifetime of power
    and vigorous intellect,some mystical cham
    swirled up till the ceiling, consuming darkness.
    A pleasant warmth steamed through
    my entire cold body when a familiar deep , mellifluous voice greeted me 'Good Morning.'

    ©laus_deo

    _____________________________________________


    Thank you so much @writersnetwork !♡


    #nature_myeternalmuse

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    SUN FATHER

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