Evening: Stringing thoughts

Summer ebbs, round empty wrists,
footprints unsteady lyrically melts
as exclusive silver- gelatined mists-
saddened by poesies, bleeding welts.

To blushing veins, in deep grey, grained
dark maiden fallacies wordlessly lead,
past morning jays, on days that rained
blessings on clover fairies tread.

Crescent stars weep consonants new
on promises shy eyes softly rehease
for lovers who sew love-hearts upon dew,
afloat, unweary, like tulle: emerse.

On skies unwashed, fresh fuchsia etched,
reigns whispers wine-lips wildly sketched.

©Mohana Das
(Sonnet, modified)