Bees and The Flower

“My bees are to,
Reach your flower,
Late tonight”

Said the man,
The husband,
To the lady.

Whom he had,
Made his wife,
Just minutes ago.

Later that day,
The lady on bed,
Seated all alone,

Looked between,
Her legs and,
To her womb she spoke.

“Today you find,
Meaning and purpose,
To your existence.

As his bees,
Are about to,
Reach you shortly”


My Lady : My Teacher

It doesn’t matter that,
My Lady doesn’t accept me,
As her student.

Which matters is that,
I learn from her,
As a student.

As all that is hers,
Got something to teach,
The humble me.

Her dress,
Her jewellery,
Her make-up,
Her hair style,
Her speech,
Her breadth,
Her actions,
Her reactions,
Her behaviours,
Her every single thing.

Got something to,
Teach me,
Inspire me,
Encourage me.

Bride’s Final Journey

The lady,
The bride,
Walks to her lord,
Her husband.

With her parents,
Accompanied by her,
Sisters the brides-maids.
Making her final Journey.

It is the final journey,
As at the end of it,
She is no more a bride,
But a wife.
[The word bride also means a woman who just got married. But here I use it as a word meaning, a woman about to get married]

Flavors of Love

One word,
Many flavors.

It’s not always romantic,
Unless it’s between,
Me and my husband.

The sisterly love,
Towards my sisters,
And my brothers.

Or the form that is,
Between me and my,
Mom and dad.

And the love,
For my precious,
Son and Daughter.

There is also,
The love among,
Me and my friends.

As a wife,
A sister,
A daughter.

A mother,
A friend and,
Much more.

For my loved ones,
The same love,
In different forms.

–      From the point of view of a married woman