MARMALADE SKY

MARMALADE SKY

Unspoken words, uncomfortable silences

Unresolved emotions on various tangled threads

Careening to rock bottom when the night is freezing cold

A mellow light shines through when the dawn is nearly gold

When the heart hangs heavy and defeated

Assuring myself tomorrow will bring a solution and problems will be depleted

What secrets behold, what mystery is about to unfold?

Tomorrow is not promised yet I with bated breath tread on this unknown road

Curves and bends show me pathways new

Trails and alleys to explore meandering through

Tomorrow is a fiction, yet I want to write this story

To keep my dreams flickering by weaving some fantasy

It's my rosy hued world where everything is hunky-dory

An escape from this daily grind there isn't surely

If tomorrow comes I will greet the marmalade sky

The hallowed canvas with a masterpiece of colors so high

Talk to the breeze and feel it in my hair

Run through sweet scented grass with my feet bare

If tomorrow comes let me, to myself be kinder, softer and more compassionate

Speak of my vulnerable moments to those who will hold them in a manner delicate

The stars will still twinkle and the rivers will still flow

Tomorrow brings a lot of hope and clarity in my heart will glow.

©️ Sangeetha Kamath

Pic Courtesy:Pixabay

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And out of nowhere came this madness to wreck mayhem in my already topsy turvy world! Tickets back to Singapore were initially booked on the Chennai transit (why of all the cities?) Because of the shortest layover I could muster, given my still delicate health conditions and which was never even an intentional choice in all my 23 years of travel to and from Singapore. This had to be it even though I was on unfamiliar grounds. But Luck seemed to have a mind of it's own and turned its back on me when Fenjal decided to crash bang in the middle of orderly events, a day before my intended day of travel. When destiny's favorite child was shielded by Baba and his blessings, even Luck had to bow down and retreat in haste. **** Roused from my siesta with a sense of a peculiar dimness and chill , a far cry from the usually sunny and blinding brightness of humid Mangalore, I couldn't help but have that niggling feeling at the back of my mind. Checking on the flight updates for IXE-M...

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Glinting sunlight off jeweled pools of sapphire Shimmering in the vast aridness of coppery fire Fringed with a viridescent canopy of trees fig and fronds of palm A sanctuary for birds and animals to splash about, it's a soothing balm Scorched and parched, my soles trudge on the sun baked grains Seeking respite from the bleeding crimson fireball, stranded I remain Mounting sand dunes, slipping, tumbling, sinking Scraped and raw, peeling sunburnt skin Veils of illusion lifts from fleeting dreams and hollow shine Fading hues of paradise around reduced to shriveled creepers and withering vines Imperial silver puddles on blazing bronze sand Deceived again by the phantom of the parched land Visions and charms swirl like a mist under a chrome moon Conjuring sprites of the desert weave mirages of oasis and lagoons Sailing across a barren horizon are walls of crystal waves No water lilies and wild roses unfurl under these mystic skies. ©️ Sangeetha Kamath Pic Courtesy: Pixabay

TULIP-O'-PURPLE

TULIP-O'-PURPLE The flower you sent me stands tall in a vase of porcelain The bud clammed close concealing drops of rain It holds a promise of a lavender refrain The silken petals of webbed lilac veins The stalk a mossy green reminds me of meadows The long walks in the Alps and valleys below I conjure up woodlands and dappled sunset glow Purple is my favourite colour you always know The delicate bloom of sweet fragrance Reminds me of an amethyst of lustrous brilliance Swaying in the summer breeze it yearns for a dance A single Tulip in a vase takes a ballerina stance Blooming in full two days later Invites butterflies all aflutter As precious as a fairytale dream It is tinged at the tips in hues of clotted cream Purple is soon brown---a colour of wither... A hardbound diary is used to press and preserve Along with the card and cheri...

Sangeetha Kamath

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