An orchid blooms

To remain unfulfilled are all poets' dreams,
to mesmerize they flow, his words in teary streams,
dismissed by reality to a wanton exile,
yet, he holds his audience in rhythmic beguile.


I was once a poet, who longed to see a flower,
an exotic orchid that bloomed at the nightly hour,
when I did find her, she asked me to go away,
"I shall never bloom, not for you in anyway."


I have returned to my shed with a limp and some wear and tear,
The woods have been unforgiving, no mercy, no spare,
traveled the Western Ghats and the never ending plains,
Because the voice I heard was worth the pain.


And now the orchid finally blooms when I'm asleep,
Sends her fragrance over raging rivers and rocky steeps,
Like I always had felt, she says she now feels,
Alas, I'm far too deep in my sleep.

Far too deep in my sleep