During day, mind is clogged
By a thousand thoughts
Some hide in ambush and strike.
Some in open contest

Some - a disorderly mass
A *** of marbles upturned
On attempting to sweep them together
They slip and slither
Running this way and that way

At night, after their vagrant wanderings
They come back to roost,
if not insomniac!

A woman, she is
Runs her own boutique
Arts and artefacts
She sources from the farthest and deepest parts of the country
Lost in the urban lands
Antique
Precious eyes
She has a penchant for the lost treasures
Restores and redecorates
In her boutique
A life
Dedicated to her only son
Young, at nine
Detected with the dreaded ‘C’
He lived his life
With all the love
Showered by his doting parents
A young boy, with a talent for paper craft
Made unusually beautiful flowers and quilled earrings
Never ever did the pain
Show on his face
Gifted child, knew his time here
Was short
Taken away at sixteen
Made most of it
A happy child
Early, one morning
He left this world
At peace, in his sleep
She lives on
The mother of the child
Finding lost treasures
From the deepest parts

🌿🌿

Why the thought of an impending death
Stubbornly clings to me from time to time
As icicles hanging from the trees
Sending chills up through every neuron
I hear their empty rattle in my head
As rabid dogs barking at nothing
Though Shelley was full of praise
And hailed Death and Sleep as brothers
To me it is not so and will never be

Not that I am afraid to die
Nor my absence will shake the Earth out of its orbit
But it makes my thoughts break into fragments
And I find it hard to piece them together

Even if I die, my children will live as before
My husband might seek another partner
Or might pass to a new celibate state
They will never be benighted or tempest tossed
And eventually my memory shall fade
Fade away without a trace from all hearts

As I walk through the winding road
And the closer I come to the terminal
From where there is no more treading
And as time pulls the blind on my life
When the curtain falls finally and my play ends
I don’t want to leave this stage
Nor want to lose my hold
Of those hands I love and care
There are gifts still to be opened
And newer avenues to be explored

Oh, I am in love with this world
To be more true, with narcissistic ardor
I am in love with myself
I know how dangerous it is to be addicted to love

So Death, carry me in my sleep, if you must
Or sweep me away by an inundating tide
Unawares into the ocean of Eternity
Like a feather blown away by the winds!

In the hush of a fading twilight eve
Heard the passionate crooning of a dove
Under the eaves it sat close to her love
What delight, that sound instantly gave

Sudden was the change it could impart
Brought forth a spurt of spontaneous delight
Lifting away all my sadness and regret,
It fell like rain into my lovelorn heart.

The heavens soon turned azure blue
In joy, my heart began to leap
It generated in me emotions too deep
Before me all beauty came into view.

I saw pearls of bright sheen on trees,
Resting wobbly on the edge of leaves
Felt the scent of opening flowers,
Fanned in bouts of wind and breeze

Watched the evening covering in shrouds
And the day paving way to night
In darkness fireflies dancing in delight
And the moon riding in the palanquin of clouds

In the open I sat long like a sculptured figure
Breathing the scent of the perfumed air
Experiencing a new gaiety in profuse measure
My heart brimming with umpteen desire

Years ago
A pen was found
Its grip was blue
Slightly chipped

It wrote
Everyday on sheets, white
Flawlessly on the lines
Words did glide

It had a special place
Where it rested
After a long day
At the desk

Its home was warm
A wooden drawer
Strategically placed
Easy to fetch

Now it has been years
It longs to see the desk
At dawn
A practice now clearly gone

It lay still
In the wooden drawer
Cold and blue
Ink-less dry