Christmas Feast

Golden threads streaming down the skylights,
Hazy herb drenched walls soak in the fish oiled redolence,
Senses meditate on nature games and a heady mix of
Feather heads flavoured with hemp and the humble banquet
Float around.

Morning woke up with a wrinkled, sleepless bedsheet in hand,
Sat through the late noon, head dipped in esoteric dissolvents,
Deep down in the mind domain, balls hit the wall,
Some break, some others break into the light.

City bathed in festive spirit, tangoes around draped in gold and giggles,
Her ample bosom jiggling in the rhythm of delight
The who's who and the who knows, drunk alike on bottom-less highs.

Crosslegged in contemplation,
Till the drowsy rainbow sets me to sleep
When awoke I witnessed,
Feather heads of the feast, sculptured and laid,
To be gorged and disgorged.