Carefree, casual smile; all the while. Answering all questions, be they easy or even tough, my answers seem enough. I talk direct, never serious; much jest, much love, much zest; I’m at times, like a pest. Always same, for old habits can’t change; innocent yet very mature, of my future I seem sure. I am … Read moreI, me and myself..
Pulitzer prize winner Stanley Kunitz once told, “You must be careful not to deprive the poem of its wild origin.” I agree that it is born wild and free, no matter how it is born, and by what means! A poem forms in the sea of my heart An ocean of colors for this sacred … Read moreWild poetry..
A line of ants They trudge on Past the dust speck On a white petal Before the Lord Unmindful of me As I watch eagerly Their work ethic On my work desk On my work desk A line of ants They work hard And I work hardly Linked with OctPoWriMo (Day 27, What I see). … Read moreAnts..
Forgive me, I have lost a dream – in the walks of life, in the chains of strife, in a dearth of hope, I just couldn’t cope. Forgive me, I have lost a dream – I let go of a choice, in life’s endless noise, after money I went, now I lie here – spent. … Read moreForgive me, me..
I remember a time when I had felt love; when my little heart missed a beat or two, when it thought of you; when I eagerly waited to listen to your voice it was my only choice; when I eagerly waited to walk by your side in pristine moonlight. Only in your company, I could … Read moreOld times..
children run out.. a croaking frog welcomes the monsoon Linked with OctPoWriMo (Day 24, Bare bones poetry). (’12, Oct 24)