The stream

A broken heart,Bleeds tears.But it’s thoseUnder her eyes,That fascinate meThe most.How they crashOnto her skinFrom the oceanOf her eyes.Raindrops,From the stormsWithin her.How they glistenLike a streamIn the fall.Only a stream:Is full of water.Her tears:Full of words.Words:That weave poetry,As they trickle.Down her chin.Into the etchings,Of my palms. © Shanyu Bihani 2020 This is a follow-up poem…

Chocolate, orange and fantasy

Food is joy, food is sorrow, food is entertainment; but for me? Well I would say food is emotions on a plate. It’s funny how our emotions manage to seep in and make that guilty indulgence turn to a story of satisfaction and complacency. And maybe here’s when food plays the part of landing us in…

My Panna Cotta

Working over an Italian tongue brings desserts to the plate so many and sophisticated and this one cannot wait. Creamy and indulgeable smoother than cream cheese set with gelatin and topped of with berries. Pretty little Panna cottas fresh and rich elegance from vanilla ready to bewitch!