Maples and Gulmohars

Everytime the maples bloom

there in spring,

I'm falling in love,

strange is this,

but when your guitar strings

whisper in this season

around the corner

I get winds of your touch

and hear the melodies of your body.

Our love was locked under the Seine,

Don't tell me you didn't sing that

day and I was drunk,

remember how you held my hands,

and we kissed.

Back home, we watched how

the maples turned red,

and slept under the stars,

to name the shooting star.

You wished and I wished to make your wish come true.

And here when gulmohars bloom

I'm falling in love, again.

Everything's changed

but I've been looking for you,

I can feel you dancing with me,

being in your arms.

Stay with me until I fall asleep,

nothing's going to hurt you,

as long as gulmohars

Surround us,

Let us light a cigar and

dance under the sky.

I will kiss you right

on your scars,

healing you forever,

bringing you back,

seasons don't matter

without you,

whether it's maples or gulmohars.

so let me do it,

I'm the shooting star

that you can feel and dance with.

And there i can see the

road spread with fallen maples and gulmohars,

beckoning you to join them.

A.C

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#17

Everytime there came a music from the old devastated house on the hilltop.It wasn't jazz or melody or rap or opera. It sounded the broken soul. The long lost soul set to dwindle and shrink in solitude.Sewed into melancholy and dresssed in rhapsody,the hilltop triumphed over the hurricane of that season.And the music from the house gradually faded away,to welcome the next season. A.C

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