First Meeting


We sit across from each other;

Two strangers meeting for the first time,

I glance up hesitantly- meeting your amused gaze,

Just as quickly I look away hiding behind my hair.

I watch you covertly;

I stare at your big brown hands gently clasping your mug,

I admire your fingers; long and deft,

Your neat fingernails; the splotches of ink speckling your skin,

I want your hands on me.

In my mind I trace your tall burnished frame and marvel,

At your deep husky voice and the warmth of your hand as you held mine,

The mug lifts and I look up once again to meet your eyes,

Our eyes hold as you sip slowly,

I’m not going anywhere your eyes say to me,

Stop hiding now please,

Cheeks burning, I look back at you;

Your mouth hidden behind the coffee mug,

I hear a faint clatter as you place it back on the table,

Your mouth curves as we gaze at each other,

Silently, we make our first promises.

© Kavisha Saga and Ek Choti Kavita, 2014

Image: 112203280523.jpg By jasonwebber01


Of Ages Past

This is something I had written several years ago when I was in high school. I found it in my yearbook of all things :-). Here it is with some minor edits. I hope you like it.


Of Ages Past

Of ages past do I dream,

Of twisting roads and hallways,

Secret meetings under mistletoe,

Picnics beside a stormy sea,

Of golden sunsets and roses red,

Of ages past do I dream.

Silent seas and smiling moon,

Mossy paths and stone strewn roads unfold,

Curling tendrils of silver gray,

The spider in me entraps and captures,

As the human dreams of moonlight and cobwebs,

Of ages past do I yearn.

Of ages past do I miss,

Of rose-speckled paths and prickly thorns,

Tinkling laughter of brooks abound,

The silent whoosh of the trees overhead,

Crackling leaves and soft mud,

Of ages past do I dream.

Of ages past do I dream,

Of silvery rivers and golden sand,

Of hopes and dreams and all things grand,

Of ages past do I dream.

© Kavisha Saga and Ek Choti Kavita, 2014

Image: IMG_0273_d.JPG By biberta



Water, sinuous and glistening,
Trailing and caressing,
The warm mahogany of your skin,
I want to follow the small streams,
And drink from the endless rivers,
Coolness and warmth,
The salt lingers as my mind follows
where my fingers yearn to trace,
A touch; a taste,
how long must I wait?

© Kavisha Saga and Ek Choti Kavita, 2014

Image: shower2.jpg By audrey630

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