Monday, November 4, 2013

Front door

Close the front door,
Walk with me to inside,
Hold my hand and walk this far,
Show me how you cook the love.

A secret hidden in your ribbed sheath,
Show it to me dear,
I will hush it down in my breath,
Fasten it with promises of your.

Soft and melting, shiny and deep down crispy,
How do you cook best love in the world,
Into tiny pieces with ends conic and heads curvy,
Dipping, kneading and foliating with sweet words.

Close the every way,
In that bowl painted mauve,
Everything you mix with such care,
Show me how you cook the love.



 
Image source- Google Image

19 comments:

  1. Nice poem!

    Cooking love is really a lofty thought!

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  2. Replies
    1. Glad that you found it interesting enough :)

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  3. Replies
    1. Don't know yet...it is still imaginary..may be it turned out into a perfect romantic evening.. ;)

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    2. You don't know ?
      Or dont want to tell ? :P

      I know one among those two might be you.

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    3. How can be sure of your assumptions..seriously I haven't been this lucky... ;)

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    4. I think it's called sixth sense or may be seventh sense, may be.

      Or may be you are doing a good job hiding it. :P

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  4. You can cook love provided no flaws are pointed out.

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    Replies
    1. Don't worry! Love makes you dumb enough to ignore all the flaws :)

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  5. Cooking love? Wow, turning too romantic these days, haan? ;)

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    Replies
    1. Well! not my fault entirely...it's just the weather and my silly heart slipping again and again! :P

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  6. Ah! This is something new. Lovely poem.

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