I look up-
to see confetti clouds-
pasted in the sky.
The rows of eucalyptus
jingle in sparrow voice-
ringing vesper bell-
Just as shadowy bats
deluge the crepuscular sky-
I toast the moment with words
for an aftertaste.
Posted for my prompt in Poets united Midweek Motif ~ Celebration
I often think of
my very last day
of snuffing out the sun forever-
and scattering away
into the dust.
Posted for Micropoetry Month: Nov 2017 #30 hosted by Thotpurge
Our winter sun is pale-bright,
scattering sighs, it dips into night-
as fog flexes muscles dimming all stars-
my eyes mist and you’re blurred.
A dewdrop displays a pellucid grace,
I watch this day’s gait in a hurried pace-
while I play with words in color of tar-
you peep from my heart that’s left ajar.
Posted for Susan’s Midweek Motif ~ Bittersweet @ Poets United
Shared with Micropoetry Month: Nov 2017 #29 hosted by Thotpurge
You are my rain-lullaby
I am all ears
for your anklet-steps in my heart
draped in dream
you alight in my eyes
to be my little sleep song
[My inspiration for this poem is Langston Hughes’ poem April Rain Song]
Posted for Micropoetry Month: Nov 2017 #28 hosted by Thotpurge
The boy flies a kite after the terrifying exams are over.
We are glad to be your other sky, warmth, glassy lakes and winter homes.
The sun, trees, houses even water hyacinths are consumed by fog.
Posted for Micropoetry Month: Nov 2017 #27 hosted by Thotpurge
they walk on sand-
with eyes, limpid pool dreams-
they collect, it, counting each drop-
[Women in many parts of the world have to walk miles (3-4) daily to bring water. This chore keeps girls out of school and women from more productive economic activities]
Posted for Micropoetry Month: Nov 2017 #26 hosted by Thotpurge
Shared with Poetry Pantry #380 @ Poets United
The bird alighted
from the brush of a five year old-
it had wings of red heart-
its turquoise plumage glowed
against the ashen sky,
an umbrella sun-
it began to saunter
thinking about the creator
closing its eyes-
amidst blooms of hearts, stars…..
Posted for Micropoetry Month: Nov 2017 #25 hosted by Thotpurge
In this foggy winter morning
Your words wake up
From dream’s own cup
This winter morning’s pale, frail, sun
Touches no one
This cold heart wants
A bit of warmth
This dawn recalls those crystal days
When all were gay
Even nights glowed
Posted for Micropoetry Month: Nov 2017 #24 hosted by Thotpurge
pic from internet
Eclectus parrots stuffed
in drainage pipes
call back his childhood days
incarcerated in school time
[Naani is a four line poem having 20-25 syllables]
This picture of bizarre smuggling attempt reminded me of Tagore as a child who loved to skip off school for its jail like feel.
Posted for Micropoetry Month: Nov 2017 #23 hosted by Thotpurge
Shared with Poetry Pantry @ Poets United