The dream of my life was to fly with the clouds, drape their colors, adapt their shapes, hover and glide over the woods and valleys that I would love to visit. I couldn’t dare to share these desires. Now they have found their way through crevices of my heart and mind. Are they symbolic of portents of possible happenings? They boost my creativity in the middle of the night.
dreamers know no fears don’t rush to open new doors. they soar above them and land wherever they like. maps become superfluous.
I am thankful to all the poets who write and promote Syllabic Poetry, as I have learned to write various forms of this poetry with your prompts and inspiration. A special THANKS to Colleen, whose encouragement never wanes, and her positive comments keep pouring in despite her busy schedule.
Syllabic poetry is a challenging form of poetry that relies on syllabic count. It may appear to be short and simple, and easy to write, but I realized its level of difficulty when I tried to write within the given syllables. It conveys the poet’s thought in a succinct and meaningful manner. It has a soul that peeps through words brimming with emotion. Each word is loaded, and each metaphor is significant. Read slowly to savor the flavor and the depth of the thought.
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sunsets allure me bring a million memories of immortal love
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embers of the day leave behind a red echo persistent passion
Some babies are born with invisible fetters. They may strut about in their homes with wishes of flying high, but their wings never grow, and if they do, they are clipped by the diktats of traditions. Such stories remain within the hearts of girls, as their lips are sealed by cultural compulsions.
Earthy is one such girl, but her determination to break free could never be vanquished. She yearns to grow up again, to feel the sunshine that filters through the arms of her parents, to soak in the showers of harmony, to giggle with abandon and swirl with her dreams.
The sudden, untimely demise of her father rips her whole world apart, and the little joys of childhood vanish. From emotional deluge to resilience and detachment, she treads the paths of her life, struggling to rise above the average.
Dolly’s freedom takes her away from her family, and her choices boomerang. Imperceptible fetters follow her in the garb of love that she chooses. Should we pay attention to Grandma’s wise words – “We are tied to our destiny?” ‘Beyond the Fetters’ explores the possibilities of girls looking beyond their so-called destiny.
I look forward to the support of all my readers and buddies. Thank you.
For poetry, hang out with Hues Of Hope All the posts on my blog are created by me and are protected by copyright. It is strictly prohibited to use them to train AI technologies.
Grief is like a perennial stream that flows unaffected, as the layers of glacier that sit within our hearts get thicker each moment. The tunnels of thawed emotions struggle to find a passage, which is often blocked by outside influence – by our own family members and friends. Their words of sympathy try to plug the bleeding holes, little knowing that some cracks are permanent; they can’t be darned. I’ve tried to give vent to my frozen feelings in these poems.
Shocked beyond words at the sudden demise of my husband, I found refuge in poetry. With a choked throat and numb lips, I sat shivering. Alone, unable to speak.
Tears flowed when I wrote these poems; they continued to flow when I read them again and again to check for any errors. Now they lurk around the rims of my eyes, the heaviness in the heart has not decreased; the emptiness in the pit of my stomach makes me shudder even now, after almost a year of being alive without him.
This journey through grief is now available for pre-order.
Here is the link: your book’s detail page* in the Kindle Store. A paperback will be available within two days.
Dear friends and blogger buddies, thank you for reading my poems though they’ve taken a turn into dark alleys but I promise to emerge from them, one day.
This week’s challenge invitation is to explore the world of collective animal nouns. Hop over to Colleen’s site for more details about this interesting challenge.
Fusion is the elixir of life. We seek it in every aspect of the cosmos. The magic of fusion manifests itself in the colors of dawn and dusk, in the melodies of nature, in the singing of birds, in the miniscule moments of joy, inspiring us to live in harmony with each other despite the edges that threaten to swallow us.
The poems in this collection are an amalgamation of harmonies and edges that bind us firmly. We have to wade into murky waters to measure the depth. We have to risk the heights to know our worth. Slippery snow makes us learn how to create footholds. Some songs of life dilute in the hourglass of time to erase the shadows – dark or light, all the colors play an equal role to create a fusion.
I am looking forward to your help in promoting it. Thank you for your continued support.
A special thanks to Sally Cronin for making a grand announcement of ‘Fusion’ at her esteemed site.