The Gate
The Place was like emerging
It is true
The story, strange and glorious,
Bhola Bhakta
But it is as it is, Love…
My Neighbour God (The Song of the Foliage)
The stairway is dusty,
Bargain
What is your currency, my friend?
Crimson Red
The skies over Crete in the hour of a splendoured dusk,
Shree Blue
That girl was blue.