April was a poetry writing month. How can I forget it? Without knowing what it takes, I jumped headlong into #NaPoWriMo for Penmancy and before I knew it the month drew to a close… Guess what! I had written the
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Looking out of the water-stained windows I see the countryside buried in rainy tears, I vehemently address the sky and ask who are you, Why have you let our peace flow down the drain? You come down and enter
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Dear Mom I know you will be quite surprised to get my letter. I can already hear a hundred sarcastic remarks coming my way. Ha ha! Yes, I am breaking my own rule, or laziness, as you call it, by
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I shudder going into my bedroom Where an empty bed bears testimony, To the good-byes for being that indolent groom Who is now waited upon for a huge alimony. The sweet wailings of a new-born haunt the place, Along
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Like a rich garment on a fair bride Like a multi-hued artwork on a bright canvas Like a dash of makeup on an excited child The Spring has spread its bloom with elegant finesse. The barren trees stand overwhelmed
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I do not wish to repeat ‘The Road not Taken’ by Robert Frost. But one part of the poem keeps coming to my mind every day. Here it goes- I shall be telling this with a sigh Somewhere ages and
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I sit by the large glass window Seeing the yellow autumn leaves fall, Waiting for the deafening stillness To break with that one phone call. I wait ardently for him to call From across the seven seas, To enthral
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This poem was featured in The Hedge Apple Magazine 2023, Maryland, USA You seem no more mesmeric and beautiful Than fallen roses in cold winter’s grace, I’ve grown nonchalant and unmindful Of your beguiling charms in life’s fast race. Your
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Thakur Tej Bahadur- this name sent shivers down the spine of mostly all the residents of Kharegaon, a small village in Gujarat. Yes, he was very much like the most defiant and egoistic landlords there. He rode around the village
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