A poem inspired by this year's autumn fall. I wanted to publish this poem on 20th Nov, but couldn't make it. It was such a pain to carry the poem in head without penning it down. It feels like floating in air when I managed to publish it finally. You can also hear this poem read by me in my YouTube channel mmanoba. The video is also found below the poem.
Autumn Landscape
My mind on mutiny of melodious muteness
Pathetic painful moronic oxymoron
Whistles she along with radio singer
Cheerful chauffeuse, drives me to her chateau
Backseat Oskar meditates on scenes pass by
Trains and station fade behind him
Serpentine roads and leaves strewn landscapes
Brumous fog or heavenly drizzle, hard to gauge
A gentleman on curly horse salutes us warmly
Passing him, changes she the gear
Stands there a golden couple of good old chateau
Kisses of welcome and knuckle crushing handshake
A decor of taste, surprise, awe and charm
Inches of them speak of her, her fondness, intellect
Every time I visit them, stand I with my eyes widened
Shameless pride in her proud father’s eyes
She the treasure not his chateau
Breakfast ready, drags she me to her terrace garden
Oskar leads us to the greenhouse, tail dancing
Her treasured orchidarium and my beloved orchids
Varieties of them and a little pond of wonder
Lotus and lily, pinks, yellows and whites
My blue lotus too, no Victoria, ask I, smiles she killingly
Bees, honey and bumble, ply between nectaries and hives
Hives assembled half in rest out, her prudent pick
Blows she on glass and wipes the vapor film
Scenic beauty rushes in yanking my breath away
Rising cliffs, rolling slopes, thick woods, green blanket under
Merry pair of cooing doves dives down and then jives up
My silent prayer, a heinous hope for a queerish pair
Falling crimson leaves attempt to imitate them
Her saddened heavy sigh mends the mist curtain
Her love for tea and her garden trees of autumn fall
Pin oak, golden maple, liquidambar, lists she crazily
Japanese persimmon, maple, Chinese pistache, tallow
Claret, golden ash, scarlet oak and then maidenhair
The color of your hair, my Xavi’s too, slips my tongue
Freezes her smile, gloomy stains across her face
Asks she my pardon rectifying her mien
Feeling remorse take I her supple hand
Longs she the touch lasts longer, for unknown eternity
What is on today’s menu, change I the subject
Alice in wonderland and little fishing, replies she gleamingly
Oskar jerks hearing the very word, shrills, tail goes crazy
Mushroom hunt, trout fishing, no bad menu for German Hund
Oskar the great, grand champion of black truffle hunt
Bamboo pannier, tools inside, angler’s angle, turf creel
Hardened slushy wild wood windy trails
Glued to it, red leaves, deep yellow, rotting brown
Myriad shapes, size, nature’s hand at mosaic art
Tranquil clear lakes, leaves littered ponds
Fallen fresh leaves decay drown down, rejuvenate surface
Broth like hot steam on surface, water fowls paddle, V behind
Riot of colors of autumn landscape, slothful sun above as well
Serenity bleeds, a distant remote shot injures stillness
Terrified flutterings of assorted wings, twice and again a gunfire
A Bean-shidh croons, darling bird’s plume in her hands
Frightened eyes, pounding soul, female of merry pair returns solo
Tragic numbness clogs up throats, tireless Oskar flirts with hares
Nature’s bounty basket full, ample catch of singing brooks
String of caterpillars, one behind other, journey to pupal homes
Autumn’s treasures in timber boats, gold leaves, dew diamonds
Scarlet leaves, rubies, mossy branches, worthy emeralds
Standing guard, coots and ducks, renounce posts now and then
Distant swan pair at love making, Oskar guides promenade back
Against her head, wishes she my shoulder, fogy veil falls heavy
The chateau manifests mightily, drifting amidst paradise mist
The chateau of delicious souvenirs, where I met Xavi first
Her grand aunt’s uncle’s only great-grandchild
The day I gifted them the love of Oskar, then pup
The chateau, it’s every bricks, I love, yes, every bricks
Every bricks but her adored violin and a photo by it
An image of mine trapped frozen in, shreds my heart, zillion cuts
Every time, her violin ends solo cries, theaters stand applauding
Few with bleary eyes, most with runny nose
No just music, she adept at, kitchen too her orchestral ground
Regal diné lies ahead, vin jaune, Beaujolais and dirty jokes
A week or so more to go
Far from Xavi, in bosom of a family, my friend of childhood
A splendid fair lady, researching net on Victoria lilies
