Guess What?

Satisfaction

DSCF1456

There’s so much to love, so much to hate,

The satisfaction from beaches, scorching sunshine and Coke….. guess the State?

 

Lollipop Memories

Lollipop

IMG_1871

Stubby little fingers feeding pigeons perched on a loft beneath the window sill.

The rotund pushing the frail aside; how she wished she could feed them all.

Her mother calls and she scurries, across the terrace that singed her bare feet.

She plows into a massive form and yet she cannot wait or stall.

Mother hands a note that says ‘pint of milk’ with a rupee and sends her off.

Papers dancing in trifling whirl winds, open drains with paper boats.

Cycle skidding in the dust, hawker selling sullied ice cream cones,

And when a scarce car whooshes by,

The urchins race across to break their bones.

The counter-top at general store is too high;

The peddler smiles at enormous eyes and knows their name.

He hands the change and while she gawks;

At neat stacks of jars with soggy biscuits and lollipops;

He wonders if she ever talks.

She flits back home, she hands the change.

Twenty years subsequent, she gazes at buildings with a hundred floors, watching the sun skim windows on building tops.

Still haunted by native dust and smelly alleys, lazy street dogs and broken kites;

Insufferably longing for soggy biscuits and lollipops.

 

We Say

Sail

Me:

I stand by the shores with fettered feet

As I watch you sail away

With not a care, not a promise, nor a look of longing

I wonder if you ever wished to stay.

File_000

You:

‘Tis my nature to drift my love, I have no feet

I sail with the winds, gentle at times, sometimes they roar

I hear you sometimes calling in the night, when the seas foam and froth

Wishing I could see you but once, waiting at the shore.

 

 

 

Banks of Godavari, India

via Photo Challenge: Delta

IMG_2664

I set… to rise…..

via Photo Challenge: Transient2

Thoughts and Visions

via Photo Challenge: Focus

9

She peeks through the crimson of my lonely thoughts, with mischief yet shy,

Like a diffident bride holding on with bloodless knuckles to peeling garments on wedding night.

I wonder at her wavering emotions, at times a foaming sea, at times a passive bay.

And if I held her fire in an embrace, she’d likely turn me to ashes,

Though winning her, is all I wished, I’d gladly die without a fight.