The power of pink, A cynosure so brazen, Yet love radiates. A very Happy Women's Day to all of you. A salute to the Pink Brigade.
My poetry handlettered by the brilliant Hannah Vizcarra, etredanslalune on Instagram ( https://instagram.com/etredanslalune__?utm_source=ig_profile_share&igshid=irzkkldys28t)
My heart, They peer into And see the hues that bleed, And incandescent hope undimmed, I shine.
The cobbled clutter, Finely etched, Imprinted by Time's Surf, I try to walk on the monolith beauty, But it chided me in arrogance. For I fell flat down, Trapped in the cloistered spaces, Losing myself in the labyrinth, The tenacious clutter never let me go. The cobbled clutter, That is life, Full of adamant edifices,… Continue reading Cobbled Clutter
A life, A story, You write some , Erase some. You wish to draw some, But gusts of stormy tempest, It blows the grains away. You look on. And you still draw, Small lines, Broken lines, Anonymous, Indistinct. Someday, Those lines would merge, An amalgam of all the broken ones, And a masterpiece borne. For… Continue reading Life- story
My staircase, Wide arched, It's wood lined steps tapering, Narrowing as it moved higher, The teak polished banister, Embellished with muslin and silk, Wreathed with hued autumnal blossoms. I look at it in awe, As I tread softly on its steps. It leads me up to a landing, As I stand face to face with… Continue reading My staircase
Fate,an enigma, An answer untold, Unforseen and unexpected. We wish to chart our own paths, But the paths we tread on, Preordained. We strive to acquire, But the mighty hand chooses all, It decides to dole out what it deems fit. You rave and rant, But it just shrugs off the rancour, With a haughty… Continue reading My fate
Seeking truth of life, Unveiling many facets, She found it inside. The feigned guise all time, Simulating make believe, She saw through it all.
Another December, Another year drawing to a close, As you muse, You see, A plethora of things not done, Milestones still to reach. You wonder, If this year ever was. For nothing changed, Nothing new, The wheels of life churning usual brew. And you trudge along, Awaiting the advent of new hour, When the bell… Continue reading Another December