of waves crashing and some sepia thoughts....

 Staring out of the lighthouse window
as it guides with its neon light...
ships that pass each other in the night...
a distant foghorn, the receding haunting voice,
kismet.......fate?
or do they pass each other by, out of choice.

i ponder over the cargo they haul,
warm ordinary human enthusiasm
a baggage of emotions long denied
all pushed behind a stark white wall?

Running my tongue over my lips
i taste a long forgotten kiss.....
notes from a saxophone, swaying my hips,
those carefree days ,how dearly i miss.

The vivid colours of my dupatta that never stayed in place
laughing out loud, the crinkly lines on your face...
those crazy days ,when passion ruled,
i manned my own ship...
fate sat in a chair and simply drooled.

That same passion, that conquers reason still....
this renaissance is a must, at times uphill.
unlike nash, i have no bone to pick with fate,
like rare old wine, i too am maturing late.

The chill in the air, warms my breath
turning back towards the steps, i hug myself
cold as death.....

Sensations of this night are not meant to be defined,
elusive.....refusing a tag of any kind.
my mind's shutter flashes images in black and white
fading now......
like ships that passed away in the night.

sonny [all rights reserved ]