I'm reminded of a friend who was fond of songs by Ataullah Khan and would force others to listen. Upon hearing, one buzurg victim responded, 'Lagta hai, yeh shamshaan-ghat par baith kar gaa raha hai"!

Don't you peeps have some happy/pleasant verses to share, or are we in for a thread of dirges?

Did write a poem in honour of U na. True, nothing pleasant but....

Magar happy, na?

On the lines of
"Me handsome, me clever,
Have you seen anyone better"?

Me modest, me thoughtful,

Me mostest, sabse smarter"!

U certainly are topmost

I mean at making a boast

U don't need a mirror on the wall

Ur mind just does it all

U think Ur a rare find

I say U must be blind

Ur verses make my teeth grind

I pay U back in kind!!!!

That's a nice piece, Kesuma. Is it written by you?

That's a lovely one, Dimps. Very touching

That's hilarious.

Phenomenal Woman

Pretty women wonder where my secret lies.
I'm not cute or built to suit a fashion model's size
But when I start to tell them,
They think I'm telling lies.
I say,
It's in the reach of my arms
The span of my hips,
The stride of my step,
The curl of my lips.
I'm a woman
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That's me.

I walk into a room
Just as cool as you please,
And to a man,
The fellows stand or
Fall down on their knees.
Then they swarm around me,
A hive of honey bees.
I say,
It's the fire in my eyes,
And the flash of my teeth,
The swing in my waist,
And the joy in my feet.
I'm a woman
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That's me.

Men themselves have wondered
What they see in me.
They try so much
But they can't touch
My inner mystery.
When I try to show them
They say they still can't see.
I say,
It's in the arch of my back,
The sun of my smile,
The ride of my breasts,
The grace of my style.
I'm a woman

Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That's me.

Now you understand
Just why my head's not bowed.
I don't shout or jump about
Or have to talk real loud.
When you see me passing
It ought to make you proud.
I say,
It's in the click of my heels,
The bend of my hair,
the palm of my hand,
The need of my care,
'Cause I'm a woman
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That's me.

Maya Angelou

I Sit and Think

I sit beside the fire and think
of all that I have seen,
of meadow-flowers and butterflies
in summers that have been;

Of yellow leaves and gossamer
in autumns that there were,
with morning mist and silver sun
and wind upon my hair.

I sit beside the fire and think
of how the world will be
when winter comes without a spring
that I shall never see.

For still there are so many things
that I have never seen:
in every wood in every spring
there is a different green.

I sit beside the fire and think
of people long ago,
and people who will see a world
that I shall never know.

But all the while I sit and think
of times there were before,
I listen for returning feet
and voices at the door.

JRR Tolkien

Last night, while I lay thinking here,
some Whatifs crawled inside my ear
and pranced and partied all night long
and sang their same old Whatif song:
Whatif I'm dumb in school?
Whatif they've closed the swimming pool?
Whatif I get beat up?
Whatif there's poison in my cup?
Whatif I start to cry?
Whatif I get sick and die?
Whatif I flunk that test?
Whatif green hair grows on my chest?
Whatif nobody likes me?
Whatif a bolt of lightning strikes me?
Whatif I don't grow talle?
Whatif my head starts getting smaller?
Whatif the fish won't bite?
Whatif the wind tears up my kite?
Whatif they start a war?
Whatif my parents get divorced?
Whatif the bus is late?
Whatif my teeth don't grow in straight?
Whatif I tear my pants?
Whatif I never learn to dance?
Everything seems well, and then
the nighttime Whatifs strike again!

- Shel Silverstein

One picture puzzle piece
Lyin' on the sidewalk,
One picture puzzle piece
Soakin' in the rain.
It might be a button of blue
On the coat of the woman
Who lived in a shoe.
It might be a magical bean,
Or a fold in the red
Velvet robe of a queen.
It might be the one little bite
Of the apple her stepmother
Gave to Snow White.
It might be the veil of a bride
Or a bottle with some evil genie inside.
It might be a small tuft of hair
On the big bouncy belly
Of Bobo the Bear.
It might be a bit of the cloak
Of the Witch of the West
As she melted to smoke.
It might be a shadowy trace
Of a tear that runs down an angel's face.
Nothing has more possibilities
Than one old wet picture puzzle piece.

- Shel Silverstein


.. is lovely Kesuma ..and welcome to thread, hope to read more of you .

Catch.. lovely ones indeed, specially "I sit and Think"

Dimps

I have stopped saying that the poems you read and share with us are lovely for simple reason .. it might sound cliched

Pradeep

Please also share with us what you like.

"PS: heck! I sound as if am the host here.. sorry catch "

Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

And you, my father, there on that sad height,
Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

-Dylan Thomas
I like for you to be still
It is as though you are absent
And you hear me from far away
And my voice does not touch you
It seems as though your eyes had flown away
And it seems that a kiss had sealed your mouth
As all things are filled with my soul
You emerge from the things
Filled with my soul
You are like my soul
A butterfly of dream
And you are like the word: Melancholy

I like for you to be still
And you seem far away
It sounds as though you are lamenting
A butterfly cooing like a dove
And you hear me from far away
And my voice does not reach you
Let me come to be still in your silence
And let me talk to you with your silence
That is bright as a lamp
Simple, as a ring
You are like the night
With its stillness and constellations
Your silence is that of a star
As remote and candid

I like for you to be still
It is as though you are absent
Distant and full of sorrow
So you would've died
One word then, One smile is enough
And I'm happy;
Happy that it's not true

- Pablo Neruda

a really lovely one....

The art of losing isn't hard to master;
so many things seem filled with the intent
to be lost that their loss is no disaster.

Lose something every day. Accept the fluster
of lost door keys, the hour badly spent.
The art of losing isn't hard to master.

Then practice losing farther, losing faster:
places, and names, and where it was you meant
to travel. None of these will bring disaster.

I lost my mother's watch. And look! my last, or
next-to-last, of three loved houses went.
The art of losing isn't hard to master.

I lost two cities, lovely ones. And, vaster,
some realms I owned, two rivers, a continent.
I miss them, but it wasn't a disaster.

--Even losing you (the joking voice, a gesture
I love) I shan't have lied. It's evident
the art of losing's not too hard to master
though it may look like (Write it!) like disaster.

-Elizabeth Bishop

They are so nice, so touching.

Life in a Love

Escape me?
Never --
Beloved!
While I am I, and you are you,
So long as the world contains us both,
Me the loving and you the loth,
While the one eludes, must the other pursue.
My life is a fault at last, I fear:
It seems too much like a fate, indeed!
Though I do my best I shall scarce succeed.
But what if I fail of my purpose here?
It is but to keep the nerves at strain,
To dry one's eyes and laugh at a fall,
And, baffled, get up and begin again, --
So the chase takes up one's life, that's all.
While, look but once from your farthest bound
At me so deep in the dust and dark,
No sooner the old hope goes to ground
Than a new one, straight to the selfsame mark,
I shape me --
Ever
Removed!

Robert Browning

If Questioning Would Make Us Wise

If questioning would make us wise
No eyes would ever gaze in eyes;
If all our tale were told in speech
No mouths would wander each to each.

Were spirits free from mortal mesh
And love not bound in hearts of flesh
No aching breasts would yearn to meet
And find their ecstasy complete.

For who is there that lives and knows
The secret powers by which he grows?
Were knowledge all, what were our need
To thrill and faint and sweetly bleed?

Then seek not, sweet, the "If" and "Why"
I love you now until I die.
For I must love because I live
And life in me is what you give.

Christopher Brennan

A Relationship is like a Rose

A relationship is like a rose,
How long it lasts, no one knows;
Love can erase an awful past,
Love can be yours, you'll see at last;
To feel that love, it makes you sigh,
To have it leave, you'd rather die;
You hope you've found that special rose,
Cause you love and care for the one you chose.

Rob Cella

Itne din hue, Dimps kahan gayi?
Me came back ready to read pages of poetry but yahan kaafi sannata hai.

Catch I see is now not man or woman but both!!!
How they delight in games!!!

That's a nice feeling. Will I be accepted on both sides of the gender divide? Intrigue & mystery keeps things in a very interesting perspective. It adds a little spice to the monotony of our lives, ain't it.

I Love Thee

I love thee, as I love the calm
Of sweet, star-lighted hours!
I love thee, as I love the balm
Of early jes'mine flow'rs.

I love thee, as I love the last
Rich smile of fading day,
Which lingereth, like the look we cast,
On rapture pass'd away.

I love thee as I love the tone
Of some soft-breathing flute
Whose soul is wak'd for me alone,
When all beside is mute.

I love thee as I love the first
Young violet of the spring;
Or the pale lily, April-nurs'd,
To scented blossoming.

I love thee, as I love the full,
Clear gushings of the song,
Which lonely--sad--and beautiful--
At night-fall floats along,

Pour'd by the bul-bul forth to greet
The hours of rest and dew;
When melody and moonlight meet
To blend their charm, and hue.

I love thee, as the glad bird loves
The freedom of its wing,
On which delightedly it moves
In wildest wandering.

I love thee as I love the swell,
And hush, of some low strain,
Which bringeth, by its gentle spell,
The past to life again.

Such is the feeling which from thee
Nought earthly can allure:
'Tis ever link'd to all I see
Of gifted--high--and pure!

Eliza Acton

Fawn Ghazal

C.J. Sage


Inside a snowy blanket which put the trees to sleep,
I heard a fawn.
Out past the window's ice coat in the morning, I
found a sleeping fawn.

There are men in yellow kitchens watching hands of
brown-eyed women
while men in orange jackets dream in secret, of
capturing a fawn.

When I was younger I was taught, but have forgotten,
sweet timidity.
When I am older I will learn, by necessity, the
light-footedness of fawns.

Someone left a lily on my doorstep, eggshell white
with speckled leaves;
the card of introduction said the flower's name was
Fawn.

Sages wonder if it's possible for men to turn to
animals.
I wonder if they've pondered the agility of fawns.

Mind

Mind is the master planner that molds and makes
And man is mind and forever more he takes,

The tools of thought and shaping what he wills
Brings forth a thousand joys, a thousand ills

He thinks in secret and it comes to pass
His environment is but his looking glass!!!

James Allen

To a Stranger

Passing stranger! you do not know
How longingly I look upon you,
You must be he I was seeking,
Or she I was seeking
(It comes to me as a dream)

I have somewhere surely
Lived a life of joy with you,
All is recall'd as we flit by each other,
Fluid, affectionate, chaste, matured,

You grew up with me,
Were a boy with me or a girl with me,
I ate with you and slept with you, your body has become
not yours only nor left my body mine only,

You give me the pleasure of your eyes,
face, flesh as we pass,
You take of my beard, breast, hands,
in return,

I am not to speak to you, I am to think of you
when I sit alone or wake at night, alone
I am to wait, I do not doubt I am to meet you again
I am to see to it that I do not lose you.

Walt Whitman

Was this posted?



Flow down, cold rivulet, to the sea,
Thy tribute wave deliver:
No more by thee my steps shall be,
For ever and for ever.

Flow, softly flow, by lawn and lea,
A rivulet then a river:
Nowhere by thee my steps shall be
For ever and for ever.

But here will sigh thine alder tree
And here thine aspen shiver;
And here by thee will hum the bee,
For ever and for ever.

A thousand suns will stream on thee,
A thousand moons will quiver;
But not by thee my steps shall be,
For ever and for ever.


Lord Tennyson

Because my faltering feet may fail to dare
The first descendant of the steps of Hell
Give me the Word in time that triumphs there.
I too must pass into the misty hollow
Where all our living laughter stops: and hark!
The tiny stuffless voices of the dark
Have called me, called me, till I needs must follow:
Give me the Word and I'll attempt it well.

Say it's the little winking of an eye
Which in that issue is uncurtained quite;
A little sleep that helps a moment by
Between the thin dawn and the large daylight.
Ah! tell me more than yet was hoped of men;
Swear that's true now, and I'll believe it then.


Hillaire Belloc

"Too often we underestimate the power of a touch, a smile, a kind word, a listening ear, an honest compliment, or the smallest act of caring, all of which have the potential to turn a life around. People come into our lives for a reason, a season, or a lifetime. Embrace all equally!"

Take this kiss upon the brow!
And, in parting from you now,
Thus much let me avow
You are not wrong, who deem
That my days have been a dream;
Yet if hope has flown away
In a night, or in a day,
In a vision, or in none,
Is it therefore the less gone?
All that we see or seem
Is but a dream within a dream. I stand amid the roar
Of a surf-tormented shore,
And I hold within my hand
Grains of the golden sand
How few! yet how they creep
Through my fingers to the deep,
While I weep - while I weep!
O God! can I not grasp
Them with a tighter clasp?
O God! can I not save
One from the pitiless wave?
Is all that we see or seem
But a dream within a dream?



Edgar Allan Poe

Mei vaapas aagayi...
I missed the thread so mmuch - was in Pune
to attend cousin's kid's naming ceremony,
my bro-in-law's engagement and a wedding
- was I away for a week - it looks like
ages...

Gr8 going Catch, Priye and Shiv...

Now my turn to share some...

I Am Not Yours

by Sarah Teasdale

I am not yours, not lost in you,
Not lost, although I long to be
Lost as a candle lit at noon,
Lost as a snowflake in the sea.

You love me, and I find you still
A spirit beautiful and bright,
Yet I am I, who long to be
Lost as a light is lost in light.

Oh plunge me deep in love - put out
My senses, leave me deaf and blind,
Swept by the tempest of your love,
A taper in a rushing wind.




Did I post this before ?

To The God of Pain

(by Sarojini Naidu)


UNWILLING priestess in thy cruel fane,
Long hast thou held me, pitiless god of Pain,
Bound to thy worship by reluctant vows,
My tired breast girt with suffering, and my brows
Anointed with perpetual weariness.
Long have I borne thy service, through the stress
Of rigorous years, sad days and slumberless nights,
Performing thine inexorable rites.

For thy dark altars, balm nor milk nor rice,
But mine own soul thou'st ta'en for sacrifice:

All the rich honey of my youth's desire,
And all the sweet oils from my crushed life drawn,
And all my flower-like dreams and gem-like fire
Of hopes up-leaping like the light of dawn.

I have no more to give, all that was mine
Is laid, a wrested tribute, at thy shrine;
Let me depart, for my whole soul is wrung,
And all my cheerless orisons are sung;
Let me depart, with faint limbs let me creep
To some dim shade and sink me down to sleep.

Have to rush back to work now ..
but b4 I go, one more...

To all ye HFrs...


Life's Mirror

by M. Bridges


There are loyal hearts, there are spirits brave,
There are souls that are pure and true,
Then give to the world the best you have,
And the best will come back to you.

Give love, and love to your life will flow,
A strength in your utmost need,
Have faith, and a score of hearts will show
Their faith in your word and deed.

Give truth, and your gift will be paid in kind;
And honor will honor meet;
And a smile that is sweet will surely find
A smile that is just as sweet.

Give pity and sorrow to those who mourn,
You will gather in flowers again
The scattered seeds from your thoughts outborne
Though the sowing seemed but vain.

For life is the mirror of king and slave,
'Tis just what we are and do;
Then give to the world the best you have,
And the best will come back to you.

Itne saare functions ek saath!!!
Haan ek hafta. Me too was away on a study trip to Hyderabad.

Eternity


by Ara John Movsesian

I smile whenever I recall
The special moments we have had;
Walking always hand in hand
Through the good times and the bad.

Sometimes, I think it is a dream --
The love you give me could not be;
But then when you are in my arms
There's no mistake in its purity.

Whether I'm with you or far away,
My thoughts are always drawn to you
Like a compass needle pointing North
To a love much more than true.

Of all the people on this Earth --
How lucky can a person be;
To have found the likes of you, my love,
With whom to share eternity!

A Psalm of Life

Tell me not in mournful numbers,
Life is but an empty dream!
For the soul is dead that slumbers,
And things are not what they seem.

Life is real! Life is earnest!
And the grave is not its goal;
Dust thou are, to dust thou returnest,
Was not spoken of the soul.

Not enjoyment, and not sorrow,
Is our destined end or way;
But to act, that each tomorrow
Find us farther than today.

Art is long, and Time is fleeting,
And our hearts, though stout and brave,
Still, like muffled drums, are beating
Funeral marches to the grave.

In the world's broad field of battle,
In the bivouac of Life,
Be not like dumb, driven cattle!
Be a hero in the strife!

Trust no Future, howe'er pleasant!
Let the dead Past bury its dead!
Act, - act in the living Present!
Heart within, and God o'erhead!

Lives of great men all remind us
We can make our lives sublime,
And, departing, leave behind us
Footprints on the sand of time;

Footprints, that perhaps another,
Sailing o'er life's solenm main,
A forlorn and shipwrecked brother,
Seeing, shall take heart again.

Let us then be up and doing,
With a heart for any fate;
Still achieving, still pursuing,
Learn to labor and to wait.

HW Longfellow

Come, My Beloved, Hear From Me

(by Robert Louis Stevenson)


Come, my beloved, hear from me
Tales of the woods or open sea.
Let our aspiring fancy rise
A wren's flight higher toward the skies;
Or far from cities, brown and bare,
Play at the least in open air.
In all the tales men hear us tell
Still let the unfathomed ocean swell,
Or shallower forest sound abroad
Below the lonely stars of God;
In all, let something still be done,
Still in a corner shine the sun,
Slim-ankled maids be fleet of foot,
Nor man disown the rural flute.
Still let the hero from the start
In honest sweat and beats of heart
Push on along the untrodden road
For some inviolate abode.
Still, O beloved, let me hear
The great bell beating far and near-
The odd, unknown, enchanted gong
That on the road hales men along,
That from the mountain calls afar,
That lures a vessel from a star,
And with a still, aerial sound
Makes all the earth enchanted ground.
Love, and the love of life and act
Dance, live and sing through all our furrowed tract;
Till the great God enamoured gives
To him who reads, to him who lives,
That rare and fair romantic strain
That whoso hears must hear again.

There is a Lady Sweet and Kind

by Thomas Ford

There is a lady sweet and kind,
Was never a face so pleased my mind;
I did but see her passing by,
And yet I'll love her till I die.

Her gesture, motion, and her smiles,
Her wit, her voice my heart beguiles,
Beguiles my heart, I know not why,
And yet I'll love her till I die.

Cupid is winged and he doth range,
Her country, so, my love doth change:
But change she earth, or change she sky,
Yet, I will love her till I die.

Been listening to some of these since last month. Very nice collection. There's one I like quite a lot.

That'sabeautychitz. Welcome to the peace & tranquility of this thread.Some ofthe poems would take us down memory lane for sure.

Dreams may die but let us not deprive ourself of the essence of imagination & thoughts. Nobody can take this away from us.


THOUGHTS OF YOU

Author: Thomas E. Napper

I was thinking about you today
and I do that a lot it seems.
You're always in my heart by day,
at night you drift into my dreams.

I cannot shake these feelings for you,
but then I'd never had a desire to.
The blessing of our love and friendship,
is something I want to share with you.

I want to feel you near me,
when you're so far away.
I hope you feel me in your heart,
as you travel your path today.

Footprints in the sands of time,
walking closer towards each other.
Holding hands and sharing love,
which will not be meant for another.

These are some of the memories,
that come with thoughts of you.
These feelings are from my very heart,
and something you can hold as true.
*****************************************
Thoughts
by Sarah Teasdale

When I am all alone
Envy me most,
Then my thoughts flutter round me
In a glimmering host;

Some dressed in silver,
Some dressed in white,
Each like a taper
Blossoming light;

Most of them merry,
Some of them grave,
Each of them lithe
As willows that wave;

Some bearing violets,
Some bearing bay,
One with a burning rose
Hidden away --

When I am all alone
Envy me then,
For I have better friends
Than women and men.

WOW Such a lovely collection of poems.Catch U r very talented and brainy, for that matter i see a lot of ladies too have multiple interests, it is great to be a part of this forum.

Pinky, welcome to the thread. Pink, especially the very mild one is abeautiful colour & match it with black to give a great combinationfor a dress.

Thanks a lot Catch , That is very nice,so true ( I mean Friendship)

Today's a gift, that's why it is called the present. (Pun intended)

A Poet To His Beloved

I bring you with reverent hands
The books of my numberless dreams,
White woman that passion has worn
As the tide wears the dove-grey sands,
And with heart more old than the horn
That is brimmed from the pale fire of time:
White woman with numberless dreams,
I bring you my passionate rhyme.

William Butler Yeats

(Sorry if this has already been posted)

lovley poems all of you..
Welcome to thread Pinky and Snita

Catch : atrocious! its white & pink not black & pink.

( feels nice to point fingers.. back to real stuff now)

Beneath the shadow of dawn's aërial cope,
With eyes enkindled as the sun's own sphere,
Hope from the front of youth in godlike cheer
Looks Godward, past the shades where blind men grope
Round the dark door that prayers nor dreams can ope,
And makes for joy the very darkness dear
That gives her wide wings play; nor dreams that fear
At noon may rise and pierce the heart of hope.
Then, when the soul leaves off to dream and yearn,
May truth first purge her eyesight to discern
What, once being known, leaves time no power to appall;
Till yoiuth at last, ere yet youth be not, learn
The kind wise word that falls from years that fall--
"Hope thou not much, and fear thou not at all."

Algernon Charles Swinburne



"Hope" is the thing with feathers—
That perches in the soul—
And sings the tune without the words—
And never stops—at all—

And sweetest—in the Gale—is heard—
And sore must be the storm—
That could abash the little Bird
That kept so many warm—

I've heard it in the chillest land—
And on the strangest Sea—
Yet, never, in Extremity,
It asked a crumb—of Me.

Emily Dickinson


Drowning

Drowning (In your pride)


All my life there seems to be something in the way,
Rain is always blocking my view.
In this rain i see nothing but you,
but so far away........
in the distance, drowning in your pride.
With your hate you try to hide.

The clouds will someday clear.
But only when your near.
Because you are my shelter.
In this world full of my own fear.

Drowning..... in your pride.
The current takes me away.
Drifting me away.
It is erasing me away....
slowly..

Help me float
I am drowning in your pride.

Tanner Martin


this i liked very very much ....

My Pride


My pride is my soul
My soul immortal
Break this body
I’ll not ask for mercy
Even undone
I kneel to no one
Me
The only
and one

Make me cry?
I’d rather Die
Nothing is worth begging for
Nothing
Not money
Not fame
Not hunger
Not love
Not life
Nothing

I will not bow
I will no break
Everything you throw
I’ll take

In my book
If you have no pride
You’re not worth knowing!

My pride
My savior
Makes me a god of thunder
The worlds most extraordinary lover
The deepest thinker
Most profound feeler
No one is my match
No one is my equal
I pity those who are not me
They will never know what it’s like
To take life in
With pure greed

Be you mighty
Or meek
Despair and envy me
Look unto me and dream
Of what you could be

For my pride is there
To guide me
To remind me
There is no one greater in this world
Than me
I am almighty
Let the humble bow
I’ll not

When I meet my maker
I will stand before him
And look at his glory
And take my pride
And say ‘look upon it! ’
‘Isn’t it a worthy trophy? ’
‘Is love of my accomplishments
My passing of time
My triumphs
My errors
My glory
Mine crime? ’

Is pride truly the greatest sin?
Did it not save me countless times.
Kept me standing where others fell?
Made decisions my very own?
The essence of individuality
In Escaping conformity?

If asked to part
I’ll say nay
‘Saying but you made me this way! ’
And go my own way
Not entering another’s HIS domain
I’ll have my pride as companion
Always by my side

No one will get the better of me
Not while my pride holds me
For am I not unlike God
Made in his own image?


Ronberge , (anno primo)


Once the Images Shocked


From distance far and I feel your dear love
So striking and princely-like
With which you held your pride
And send your images partly afar

Babette Teeth



God and I


'Twas God and I'n a room
When I was brok'n he fixed me then;
In thanks I spat on Him and ran
To th'corner with my pride.

Daniel Nairn

Atrocious nothing!! A pink top with a black skirt/trousers/pants/whatever is a llllovely combo

I was thinking gowns and dresses.. with trimmings ( with this beign a poetry thread )
but still pink & white is better than pink & black any day any combination

Pink and white is yummy when I think of a bowl having large scoops of vanilla and strawberr ice-creams

Now just replace that white with somethign black and then see if you get same effect.. and you will know what am talking about