To cure us of our cyber megalomania, the crafty Grandpa set up a treasure trail in the old town with a holiday in Paris as the prize. With our smartphones confiscated,we were given maps to find our way.We had no Google to find how to read the Map. Grandpa won and is in Paris! (276… Continue reading Twittering Tales#124-19 February 2019
The metropolis melange, Anonymous faces, Faceless, Countless, Buzzing by. And I, Lost in the crowd. Then, A kind look, A stranger in the crowd, Smiles, And holds my hand, As I follow him, In the city maze, A friend in solitude, No ifs and buts, No gives and takes, Just a friend with no name!
A golden orb. Against the canopy of pale blue, It's fiery ray fragmented, The giant monolith, Scattering it's aura, As if the dark shadows, They wanted to imbibe, The golden luminescence, Basking in golden glory. But the fiery orb, Not willing to share it's beauty, Stealthily moved higher, Shining regal, As the stony denizens looked… Continue reading A Spectacle
I loved her, And she loved me all the more. I cried, And she cried all the more. But the dewy pearls only inside seen, For outside she was all serene. Her warm embrace, Her gentle a hug, A pat on the cheek, And a ponytail tug, It made me laugh away all my turmoils.… Continue reading An ode to my Mother
I am unfurling my wings, As the cold has stopped, Seeping into my skin. I am learning to partake, In the small joys of life For I can finally feel, The spring in my fingertips. The time to sleep is through, As the wind is now thrumming, With the chance to start afresh.
Where did the Spring go? It came and went, I did not come to know. The cuckoo sings, A melancholy tainted melody. Spring was basking under the sweet sun, Running wild in the green, Breezing through the gentle tufts of wind. But where my spring has gone! The angry sun pelts down fire, It singes… Continue reading Where did the Spring go?
A day in week when everything is rosy hued. You want to wallow in bed till the gong strikes noon, And be to the telly glued. You don't want to run the shower. And under the water you cower! You don't want to cook or clean, For it is a day to let go of… Continue reading Sunday Surmise
On the lonely lean tree, In the concrete jungle, Sat a crooning cuckoo, that left me enraptured. Out came the deathly saw! Out came the deathly saw! The cuckoo flew away, As the tree met the earth, All that was left behind, Was the dead stony mound.