A White Rose

THE red rose whispers of passion,
And the white rose breathes of love;
O the red rose is a falcon,
And the white rose is a dove.

But I send you a cream-white rosebud
With a flush on its petal tips;
For the love that is purest and sweetest
Has a kiss of desire on the lips.

4 Seconds wit Butterfly

For this I know, it was not so long ago I met a captivating butterfly
On its journey by and by perched this butterfly on my windowsill
Beautiful the butterfly to my eye brought a tear I dry
Every waking moment I tried to spend with my friend the butterfly for which I had fallen

Colors so great of interest I could relate to the magnificent butterfly
Day in day out time without a doubt moments spent the striking butterfly
Morning rendezvous I spent with you my gorgeous butterfly of love so true
Anything I would try for you I would die for my vivacious butterfly
Having you was paradise for things were so nice my delightful butterfly
Never showing your true colors I loved you like no other enchanted butterfly

When you photograph in black and white

"When you photograph in black and white, you capture the color of the soul."

Photography

"A picture is the expression of an impression. If the beautiful were not in us, how would we ever recognize it?"

Boudhanath Stupa

One of the oldest and the biggest Buddhist monuments ever built in Nepal, Boudhanath is an imposing structure standing some 36 meters. The Stupa stands on the massive three level mandala style Platforms surrounded by colourful private family houses. The basic feature of this great stupa is very much like that of Swoyambhunath stupa except its finial displaying. It is much bigger than Swoyambhu stupa and lies on the valley floor whereas the former one stands on the hill top. This stupa is said to have been built in 5th century A. D. The site is considered very much like Mecca for the Tibetan Buddhists and every year tens of thousands of pilgrims from all over the Himalayan region visit the stupa.

A Red Flower

Your lips are like a southern lily red,
Wet with the soft rain-kisses of the night,
In which the brown bee buries deep its head,
When still the dawn's a silver sea of light.

Your lips betray the secret of your soul,
The dark delicious essence that is you,
A mystery of life, the flaming goal
I seek through mazy pathways strange and new.

Your lips are the red symbol of a dream,
What visions of warm lilies they impart,
That line the green bank of a fair blue stream,
With butterflies and bees close to each heart!

Brown bees that murmur sounds of music rare,
That softly fall upon the langourous breeze,
Wafting them gently on the quiet air
Among untended avenues of trees.

O were I hovering, a bee, to probe
Deep down within your scented heart, fair flower,
Enfolded by your soft vermilion robe,
Amorous of sweets, for but one perfect hour!

My Beautiful Flower

you are my flower
you are my sweet soft petal
hand in hand
...in my hand
holding this precious gift
the blossom of your beauty
you are my beautiful flower

you are my flower
you are my sweet soft petal
heart in heart
just one heart
beating to your sweet aroma
the aroma of your slendor
you are my beautiful flower

you are my flower
you are my first blossom
blossoming love
you are my love
you are my first and true
like sunset ocean blue
you are my beautiful flower
i am glad i picked you

Flower Afrer Rain

"Do not seek to follow in the footsteps of the wise. Seek what they sought."
"The temple bell stops but I still hear the sound coming out of the flowers."

After The Rain

Whatever your cross, whatever your pain,
There will always be sunshine after the rain
Perhaps you may stumble, perhaps even fall,
But God's always ready to answer your call

He knows every heartache, sees every tear,
A word from His lips can calm every fear
Your sorrows may linger throughout the night,
But suddenly vanish at dawn's early light

The Savior is waiting somewhere above,
To give you His grace and send you His love
Whatever your cross, whatever your pain,
God always sends rainbows after the rain

Rose waiting for Bloom

They are not long, the days of wine and roses:
Out of a misty dream
Our path emerges for a while, then closes
Within a dream.

The Most Beautiful Flower

The park bench was deserted as I sat down to read
Beneath the long, straggly branches of an old willow tree
Disillusioned by life with good reason to frown
For the world was intent on dragging me down.

And if that weren't enough to ruin my day,
A young boy out of breath approached me, all tired from play.
He stood right before me with his head tilted down
And said with great excitement, "Look what I found!"

In his hand was a flower, and what a pitiful sight,
With its petals all worn - not enough rain, or too little light.
Wanting him to take his dead flower and go off to play,
I faked a small smile and then shifted away.

Flower of My Garden

This is one of the flower from my garden....