Sharing poems and stories , trying to paint my feelings using rhymes and metaphors.
Melodies swirl when the owl hoots , cricket chirps and the lion roars. Melodies swirl when the leaves rustle and the cascading waterfall gurgles. Melodies swirl when the off-shore breeze whines and unfold mysteries infinite. Melodies swirl when brittle branches snap under our feet and snake slither in the leaves. Melodies swirl when the new … Continue reading Swirling melodies.
Photo by James Wheeler on Pexels.com Rusted door and dusty shelves, bushes and weeds in our beloved garden, life was a rush and we forgot how to love. Money , bills and a life boring and still , daily humdrums rusted our shiny life , and we stopped looking eye to eye. Photographs engulfed by … Continue reading What happened to us?
Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com Memories euphoric and lugubrious avalanches inside my heart, like the snow on those ghostly roads , unbounded and free. Memories dive inside my mind and peck my heart's flesh. Those memories grow like my nails strong but ugly, they know the nooks and crannies of my hiding place, they know … Continue reading Memories.
Pic credit -Mayuri Srivastava. Rain swirled and the lizard hopped out of the mud with a splash, smell of lilies buoyed from the heart of her gloomy flowerbed. She stepped out and let the raindrops crown her maze of eyelash, rain or whipping storm she decided to live before she was dead. ~Mayuri Srivastava~ Nature … Continue reading Hope.
Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com Clouds growled, and the lightning tore the sky. Flames rained, and the green woods were set ablaze. Chaos and fear, worries and tears. Was it the end ? Clouds growled, this time water cascaded from the sky. Smoldering woods, sighed euphorically and flames, hissed at rain. Was it the end … Continue reading Was it the end?
Photo by Hakeem James Hausley on Pexels.com Everyday, when the splash of crimson color dissolves in the sky, and the wings of bat cloaks the sky, her silhouette framed in those wooden doors, heaves a sigh. Everyday, during those grey hours she sits at her door, with her needles and her entangled wool. She knits … Continue reading Everyday she waits.
Photo by Vicky Thao on Pexels.com Full moon and dazzling bone fire, waves rolled and broke on the shore, our fingers entangled like the tiny threads of hope. Shooting star crashed alone, and all I wished was for you evermore. You looked in my eyes, and said girl you are mine. Melodies and beats from … Continue reading Evermore.
His glass, broken and old, echoed his other half. The one he hid in the closet, of fear. ~Mayuri Srivastava~ I wrote this cinquain poem in response to Sadje's #Whatdoyousee prompt. Hope you will like it.A cinquain poem is an unrhymed five line poem and it has two syllable in first line , four in … Continue reading The glass and closet of fear.(Cinquain#3)
Photo by Nguyen Huy on Pexels.com Jasmine, soft and fragrant, floating with moonlit night, wrinkled and fell with the breaking, sunlight. ~Mayuri Srivastava~ I tried to write another cinquain poem. Hope you will like it.A cinquain poem is an unrhymed five line poem and it has two syllable in first line , four in second … Continue reading Jasmine and it’s pride.(Cinquain#2)
Photo by Rafael Albaladejo on Pexels.com Behind the closed door, was her tiny garden, where bloomed the rare weeds, wild and strong. Behind the closed door, was the majestic web, the web of all possibilities, that she had spun when she was a kid. Behind the closed door, was her castle of card, which still … Continue reading Closed Door.
Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com Raven,on my window,spoke of clouds on my brow,pouring rain, torn umbrella and death cloak. ~Mayuri Srivastava~ Just tried to express my feeling by writing a cinquain poem. A cinquain is a poem composed of five lines , the first line has two syllables , the second line has four syllables … Continue reading Death Cloak.( Cinquain#1)
Image credit; Tasos Mansour @ Unsplash The tree weathered, and it's leaves withered. The birds delivered the bruit, about it's crooked boughs and root. The dilapidated look repelled the birds, and the tree turned crestfallen and blurred. The shining stars danced in the majestic sky, and the meteors showered high. The innocent but crooked tree wished for … Continue reading The tree wished for infidel love.
My Diary 