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Showing posts from January 2, 2022

HIRAETH

This story had won the Third Prize in a  Short Story Contest held by Wordweavers.                              HIRAETH Most rainy afternoons make me jog down memory lane, to the rhythm of the downpours that cascades down in sheets. And I slacken to the percussion of the raindrops tapping against my window pane. Flashes of memories of the halcyon days come back to find me, to haunt me like mists hanging heavy and still. My only solace at this juncture are my vintage albums. My very own time machine.  Mulling over the pictures, I pen her a tribute: Once upon a time, there was a time when photos were Black & White, Monochrome, Sepia But the trees in your backyard were a much Idyllic Green--Verdant, Jade, and Lime. The fire in your hearth, a sunset Orange--red-hot, Amber and glimmering as you stoked it. The skies, i...

HALLOWEEN TALES

This poem won the Weekend Poetry Contest on The Pink Comrade for the theme 'Halloween'.                 SHIVER ME TIMBERS! Black hissing cats, witches in pointy hats, vampires in their velveteen cloaks Withered branches reach out, hoards of bats fly out of hollow oaks Haunted houses, cobwebbed lampposts glow eerily on every street Masked as zombies, ghosts, mummies and Frankenstein; children scream trick or treat Carved out pumpkins adorned as Jack-o'-lantern, decorate lawns and gardens umpteen  It's Hallowe'en, from a creaking coffin emerges a zombie unseen Quite unaware as I walk the forested paths winding and serpentine Lost in the fragrance of pine trees, wintergreen and blooms amaranthine. Footprints on the fresh pristine snow, inside my house they go They lead under my bed, but as none come out, my scream is stifled in my throat and so is my shout My heart starts hammering when I hear an incessant thumping I look at the mirror; It's my ...

SHE

This poem won the Weekend Poetry Contest on The Pink Comrade for the theme 'She'. She belonged to the sunset and the autumn skies To the songs of the seas, the summer rain and snow-capped mountain A dainty doll of china porcelain She soaked in the moonbeams and light of foliage green She loves music and hymns of Celtic mystic If you give her a dare She answers with a smile--"I am with this going somewhere" She is the sparkle and the dazzle The serein and the mizzle She reminisces and daydreams Of the yesteryears bronze, aureate and silver sheen She likes deep talks In the woods long walks Bonfire laughter, hush voice; hibernating from the noise She's a Goddess, a wild child Sometimes an angel, sometimes a witch on a broom She creates, she howls, she grieves A little bit of sunshine is all she needs She's fire, she's water and the ocean too She forgives, she believes She gets lost in the little things She fears, she trembles, she's scarred, she's sc...

CHARMED BY A KEY

This poem won the Weekend Poetry Contest on The Pink Comrade for the theme 'Knock Knock'                                       CHARMED BY A KEY Lost keys, misplaced keys chanced upon keys galore Charms not one but four! Knock! Knock! What new doors are opening for me?  Am I going on an exciting tour? A Portal has surely opened! That must be it! Electrically buzzing, reviving my spirit Coaxing me to take that leap of faith To a big change, a chance, A whole new start? "Go bravely" says a sign "It's a breeze, just a merry dance". The angels in my dreams  In voices convincing and pure "An adventurous chapter begins and victory is yours" they assure "Delightful tidings await but first It's time to put the past to rest" "Let it go"...they say, "You must!". Knock! Knock! Happiness is abound chock-a-block. "Lock old doors and throw away that key Oh! It's lost its sheen and covered in rust.....

The SOUND OF SILENCE

         This poem won the Weekend Poetry Contest on the Pink Comrade for the theme ' The Sound of Silence'.  When the skies wake up gracefully and the clouds are a splash of seashell pink, it is a promising silence. When the clear sunrise impales through like a trident and the skies are a canvas of dazzling hues, it is a celebratory silence. When my armchair beckons me to idle away, while spinning my ideas softly like cotton-candy and my thoughts like a silken thread, it is a restful silence. When the flowers in the meadows and fields unfurl to full bloom and the buds gently blossom putting on a show like a cap of bountiful spring, it is a successful silence. When the seasons change, lulled into hibernation and migration making the birdsongs pause, it is an adapting and accepting silence. When lakes become placid without a ripple, reflecting the clouds above like a mirror, it is a stable silence. When a pine-fragrant breeze sails through caressing me like...