As if I kissed a flower.
The petals so soft and tender,
So dreamy and imaginative
And so fanciful,
Lovely and attractive.
It was my impression of you
Which brought me close you
And kissed I.
After kissed I, tears welled up in
Into the lustrous eyes
And you held the hand,
Asking to be truthful to love.
Speaking in English,Enacting the dramaIn the department of English,Shakuntala not in sariBut in shirt and bell botsSpeaking impeccable EnglishCopying them ditto.
The petals wet withAnd redolent smelling sweetly.So dazzling in hue, so fascinating in loveliness,Catching fancy and imagination, dream and vision,So charming and full of flair,So dreamy and lovley.
Miss Selfi?N.B. The art of living
He received his educationIn JapanBut was posted at Dehradun.Was he a Sikh,A Hindu?Was he a scientistOr a poet?A Punjabi writerOr an English writerOr both?Was he a knowerOf many languages?A Sikh historianWriting the historyOf the Sikhs and Sikhism?A believer in Guru Nanak,He was a pious SikhDevout and righteous.
How mad had I been,How mad had I been after this poesy,Today this much!
Into the older lime-stone powder and small bricks madeCenturies old temples,She passing the whole nightLonely and darkBefore the Shiva-lingam,Praying to, seeking blessing from,Invoking the supernatural, nocturnal power,A devotee in her sadhnaTo have the mystical communion,Coming in the form of dreams.
