My Imagination

Perhaps,
if I could sit on the moon,

and write a poem on its soon.

I could write about its beauty,

while having a sip of my coffee.

But here things are not so real,

like the grass isn't greener by near.

Your imaginary beauty from here,

gets fail when I come to you there.

I craved to see you from near,

& this craving left me in fear.

Now I've become a great seer,

seeing departure takes us very near.

Sometimes,
Come in my dream & ping,

Do adoring dance, when I sing.

I do imagine a lot of things,

You flow as fragrance, 

& I become a wind.

*****