Dusk was on, the mist spread.
November cold seeped in and around.
The non-AC rental car slowed
on the highway, the view blurred.
The road seemed unending, meandering,
beautiful and bothersome, keeping us alert
like events in life mixing tears and smiles,
like waves in the sea rushing without a stop,
like the gossamer snow-flakes of winter
gently landing on the leaf-covered ground.
The moon hung big, illumining
the whole wide world; the path ahead,
every bush, tree, valley and hill.
The journey went twisting, bending
and crossing silver drenched fields
and sleep-laden, silent hamlets.
The morning brought us to the top
thousands of feet above sea and civilization.
There lay the famous lake, favored by spirits
and lamas alike, its silence magical,
its purity legendary, enshrouded in the mist
pierced now and again by the golden sun
letting us glimpses of the great Himalayas
rising high to touch the sky wrapped in white radiance.
Prompt: Picture of a mountain road.
Memories come flooding
of a well-spent childhood.
How can I forget
those sunny summers,
the shiny sea and the silky sand,
castles on the beach melting on the white shore.
Can someone return
my days of pure fun?
Prompt: Write a poem about a childhood memory that still brings you joy to think of.
This house is yours
A place under sun
A fine shelter
songs of life,
dreams of hope,
What if there’s
no light inside?
The moon and the stars
light it up
as they did before
in numerous lives
feeling blissfully happy.
It is my endless dream to live
a life of total independence.
To think, say and do as I like
is just great, but that’s not all.
I know I’m not an island.
I need people, I have my preferences.
Society nurtures my likes and
dislikes making me happy or sad.
Am I really independent?
Ties and bonds cut my freedom.
Prejudice and pride blind my thought.
The day I rise above good and bad
I am irrevocably independent.
Loving you has blessed me,
in ways more than I can see.
You have set my spirit free,
my heart’s always on a spree.
I never knew to speak without fear,
before I met and married you dear.
Your sunny smile filled me with courage,
your cool mind blew away wasteful rage.
You brought me stability and the ability
to be in control even as I confront crudity.
I thank God for this sweet blessedness,
for granting me a man of utter kindness.
Now, there is but one favor I ask of Him,
To let me be yours ever, exult to the brim.
The six-year-old warns
his little sister of a speeding car,
takes her hand crosses the road.
“with a little care you can go far.”
The young teen asks mom to let her relax
in the yard where the sky is blue, the buds bloom
“there is no scope for imagination
inside the four walls; soon I feel the gloom.”
Cousin Rahul refuses the rare offer
to prosper in the land of plenty and is not sad.
He’d rather stay and work from home
to the peace and joy of his cancer-stricken dad.
The temple priest sees good in a fall,
tells me to change anger to amicability,
to view loss and gain with equanimity,
attend to duty but never multiply responsibility.
I’m thankful for such flashes of wisdom
in young and old, in man and nature.
They teach me to look at the rainbow
beyond the hail and storm of now and future.
I love the present,
can’t stay here, though.
Need to move on
to a better future, if I can.
It’s a God-given chance
to use my current to flow
with dignity and detachment
appreciating every moment.
School days are etched deep in my memory
I long for those distant days of immense glory.
I remember my teachers with fond affection
They did their best for growth and education.
Languages carved me to be a sensitive being,
Science and math eased my practical dealings.
Library took us to lands of beauty and adventure
Labs of Biology showed us the worlds of creatures.
Everyday was filled with fun, frolic with no fear
My circle of friends widened with each new year.
School days are the longest stretch of happiness
No one should miss it, for it enlivens our existence.
Form: Rhyming couplets.
With your magic wand you turn the dreary winter
into a verdant season spreading scintillating scent
over hill, dale, valley, meadow and mighty forest.
You sprawl on the cherry tree on the sidewalk enchanting
the passers-by with your pale pink blush and an infectious smile.
Your soothing touch turns the sky into a canopy of white and blue
hiding a soft sun that grants the world the bliss of gentle warmth.
As you skip on nimble feet, the green grass thrills at your sweet delight,
the bird flies high, the hare races wild through dancing tulips, hyacinths,
crocuses, roses and forget-me-nots dotting the land in pretty hues.
Come unto us Spring! Sing of renewal of aspirations.
Ring in joy and youthful enthusiasm into our lives.
Let your voice be heard from the tops of emerald hills,
“Come out of dumps of disgusting depression , shed
your innate inertia and act with purposeful dynamism.
Bury the useless past, build anew, take a different path.”
Instill the idea, future waits for the fearless to open doors
to new thinking, seeking novel horizons.
Dear Spring! Inspire us to live like you, to laugh like you
with a fresh leash of energy, eagerness and enthusiasm.
An old man steals the car key
Another fights a marlin at sea.
Both got into a deadly race
Both were able to save grace.
Simpson and Santiago, poles apart
The key is lost at sea, stands small.
Fighting nature or fighting for love
losing battles, small or serious there of.
Prompt: “The old man and the key” (Season 13, Episode 13)