The pastel shades I embraced,
Hues mundane, yet so chaste.
Your love for me
had that tranquil grace,
My subtle heart,
forever you encase.
Peace triumphed,
You, my zephyr, aced.

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You are
the vibrant fresco
buried deep
in the pastel recesses
of my mind,
which I am striving
to resurrect
with the slow burn
of a simmering memory.

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The pastel sheet speaks to me
tired of seeping in my tears
it whispers in a dreamy tone
pleads to me to spare
to free it from the burden
of hiding my secret sobs
and I cant find words
soothing enough , but I try to explain
how every attempt I make to create poetry
goes in vain and all I float back to
always smells something like pain.

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Love!
You don't need to
compete with the rainbows,
but be the pastels,
uneven but still permanent.

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Let me be lost
in the vast sky
among the pastel clouds

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The persistent push of love
urges me to boldly steal
the crimson from your lips,
while offering you
the fire from my sun,
this exchange of colour & heat
changing the hues of our coupling,
from a whispered pastel
to a loud, lustrous veneer.

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Memories
***********

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The pastel flower

In a garden full of brightly coloured flowers, there was a flower that stood out like a sore thumb. Everyone who visited the garden admired the vibrancy of the flowers there but when they saw the pale pastel coloured flower, they frowned and turned away as they wondered why a soft subdued coloured flower was doing in such a colourful environment. Even the other flowers mocked her and said that you are not liked by all who come to admire the flowers in the garden. The poor pastel coloured flower kept smiling and hid the pain and hurt caused by the comments deep inside her heart. Then one day, a little girl came to the garden with her mother to see all the beautiful flowers and before they left, her mother asked her which flower did she like the most of all. The little girl replied that she liked the pastel coloured flower the most because it reminded her of her most favourite soft white dress that she wore when she was happy. Upon hearing that, the pale, washed out flower that everyone disliked cried happy tears and felt thankful that at least there is someone that appreciated her soft, pale beauty in the world

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