Your voice, sweet slender drops, slips and seeps like a snail through your, honey-dressed lips.
My love and your voice gone eloped from the world, from the hands of air, And, from you and me finally. I think, They would mazily roam like a bee And drink the sweetness in the flower As you and I do over each other.
They both took flight. Dislocated the heart of clouds. And, sail like swans upon the ocean of the world. Both blessed with drops of isolation Like me with your tresses Which cuddled the melancholic wall of my face like a trellis wet with dreams of flowers.
Now, your voice and my love, return like a perfume, to their cave of our mouth, Which is closed by our lips!!!
kilk 
Sometimes, the readers are pressurised to connect a certain line, context and images of a certain work with the work of a certain other iconic writer. The push that the poem creates is always a worthy creative journey to learn unforgotten poets of the millennia. The poet here has made a dire attempt to relive the likes of the poets like Donne, Byron, Spencer and Pablo Neruda. What culminated in the mind of the poet for a love poem as this, should be an ingrained melody from the creations of the said poets, recollected not in tranquility but in essentiality. The poet has beautifully sojourned the paths of these great poets, purely in culling out the imageries and serving a poetic bouquet of visual treat. A unique pairing up of the speakers love and her voice is beyond metaphysics. The likeliness of comparing it with strange and abstract ideas should have germinated in the poet’s mind through the metaphysical likes of John Donne. The sailing swans and the roaming bees are imbibed sweetness from Spencer, the “now, your voice and my love” is inevitably nerudian. The lip lock sensualness is Byronic. The poet very carefully camouflages under the auspices and elements of eminence and conducts from behind the scene to see the gathering of such unconventionally hidden pastiche, and jeers at the maestros’ to prove that poems are not from names but it’s a word game…. Well played…
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The voice is like the cupid that captures the love of the author and takes flying to the end of the world on its back. The genuine love precisely portrayed here kindles the reader’s heart to mend with his/her sweetheart. Each stanza kissing fervently with one another give multiple interpretations.
Concise but Vast in imagery.
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