Originally posted on Writing with an Open Heart:
Our hearts may break,And for a while we may not see the light. Our lives may be altered in ways that scare us,And we may not feel…
Goutam Dutta
Indian summer
Fallen leaves, yellowed.
Hot winds blast during the day.
Sweet Mangoes beckon.
Festival of Colours-Holi
Hues of fire on trees.
Festival of hues on cheeks.
Pristine moonlit night.
Monsoon Hues-India
Wet stray on road,
Searching for shelter from rain.
Thunderclaps exhort.
An entry in Lockdown Dairy
Bare roads, sans human.
Nature sets up symphony,
With birds, bees and breeze.
The beautiful Taj Mahal-India
On Yamuna’s bank,
Love’s monument pristine white;
With the moonbeams vie.
Indian Winter nights
Winter nights-
Sitting around a fire
Waiting for the morn.
A cough,
Cold air’s whiplash;
Invites sufferers’ curse.
Long nights
In a donated quilt.
A homeless prays in sleep.
~~~
Goutam is passionate about poetry and writes whenever something or someone touches his heart. He lives in Kolkata, India and writes poetry in English, Hindi and Bengali. His book on English poetry “Hues of Life” (Notion Press) can be found at Amazon. He can be reached at gdutta17@gmail.com. Goutam blogs at Straight from Heart.
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#TheShortofIt
The Arts
we give our best to the world
musicians, art, writers and dancers
coloring it beautiful
Please go check out the rest of her paintings. She is A.MAZ.ING!!
How We Become
our existence is pure chance
from the first breath to the last
…we begin to emerge
we reside in our hulls
as best we can
…we accept our fate
no destiny is foretold
it would be a lie
…we begin to build our futures
the influences we encounter
shape our course
...we put the pieces together
our existence in this world
a compilation of experiences
…we accept or reject what we encounter
this being of our own making
punctuated by false starts
…we are the entity we discovered
years of facing trials
and joys captured in moments
…we become
a lifetime to savor through memories
a person determined
Thank you, Akshita, for inspiring these thoughts!
Reblog – The Key by Paul Vincent Cannon
Always be tender…
Photo: pixabay.com
The Key
Sun kissed
petals undone
you opened in the warmth
and rejoiced
moist,
glassy,
smooth and
sweetly perfumed,
unfurling before me,
raw, naked,
beautiful,
my tender caress
the key.
©Paul Vincent Cannon
Paul, pvcann.com
Just Watch Over Me
Branching Out
clutching the familiar
history entwined
all around me
each dance with rain
an opportunity
sowing strength and hope
the crackling of old
sheds to reveal
new growth
expansion through the seasons
reaching full potential
and glorious heights
time, an enemy of our state
robs us of our vitality
we are eventually humbled
Her Spirit
VJ’s Weekly Challenge #117 – Except
my face in the mirror reflects
a ghostly reminder
this leathered skin
has endured hardships
just as she did
except
only her contentedness
beamed through
she was always glad to be alive
her adventures many and
her strength evident
as i remember her fondly
my weariness etches slightly less deep
i won’t allow my defeatist demeanor
to harshly pigment my day
thank you, gamma
#Whatdoyousee
Image credit; Pisauikan@ Pixabay
#The Sunday Whirl ~ Wordle 477 by Anita Dawes
The genetics in our family put me at a higher risk for Alzheimer’s, not a high chance but still. It’s something I worry about in my old age. Getting old sucks. 😦
Everyone agreed it was a pity
The loss of a brilliant mind
Most turned away in disgust
At the way, the dribble dried on his chin
He would groan, shrug, and dribble some more.
There’s no way to truly lament
The loss of anything
Much is hidden from us
That others do not wish us to see
Life itself is a raffle
Inevitably, you receive your number
Until you inhale your last
That’s not to say life is grim
There are brilliant flashes of light
Rainbow moments to remember…
©anitadawes 2020
ABOUT US: For those new to our website and blog, we would like to thank you for visiting. Between us, we write in several different genres, so there should be something for everyone to enjoy. Anita cannot abide computers, so I (Jaye) do all the technical (oily rag) stuff! Our books tend to be varied, from…
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Mindful Thoughts
remnants of my dreams
flit into my consciousness
snippets of illusion
co-mingling
with the events of the day
finding myself
colliding into the past
to produce an array of emotions
feelings of being torn
in different directions
where do I find comfort
where is the wisdom
where is the adventure
everywhere and in all things
...especially in dreams
Wordle #478
Little Maddie could feel the sting on her skin, right below the bend of her arm. She cried so hard; it broke my heart as I watched her pull on the frilly lace of her sleeve. The wasp had pricked through on a recent scar—first, the trike accident, now this.
I scanned the list of numbers on the fridge and made the call to the doctor. He suggested a couple of tabs of Tylenol and to spread some anti-itch gel on the sting, making sure to remove the stinger first. Naturally, I managed to spill it all over my hands.
