I traced the jagged edges
Their warmth tingling
My ruddy fingertips
They didn’t seem strange
These mountains and ridges
I ran along them
All my rugged life
The ups and downs
Made up the landscape
Where I survived
With the wind in my hair
Hope in my stride
Wrapped in muslin
Gentle dreams lie so still
Spreading over eyelids
Like a subtle touch of lace
Vast longings, latent until
Caressed by time and destiny
Fresh buds unfold in glory
Of spring in bloom, and
All hopes glow crimson
As petals of the Gulmohar
Ablaze in the glare of summer!
These lines for #FromOneLine #prompt 166 is a reflection on the current International affairs in the context of the war on Ukraine.
Opening the door I saw
Blue and Yellow at the porch
Splattered with Red; they sought
Peace, hope, and solace.
With compassion in my eyes
And sweetness in my words
All I did was console the hurt,
I did not reach out my hand
Take a stand or clear my stance,
Or invite them over to the safety
Of my large, cushy home
For I feared the Red will stain
The carpets and walls
Splash and ruin the decor
So, I stood there, until they bled
Right there on my doorstep!
These lines are for those who carry the burden of sadness and depression; who may not articulate their need for compassion in a world that expects us to be perpetually bright-eyed and bushy-tailed.
Help me if you can
To feel better, just once
To cry, yet not drown
In the darkened pools
Of forever spouting tears
Fermenting in the
Spoils of a bleeding heart
Tell me how to slip away
From the slimy burden
Of misery-laden thoughts;
Show me how to let go
Of the shame, and proclaim
I am human; I hurt, too!
She wears her scars
Like gleaming tattooes
Tangled hues of red
Painted on her skin
Bruises that never bled
Lonely silver trinkets
Mimic sheeny sparkles
Of pensive eyes, as they
Cling to starry destinies,
Fate written in the winds,
Hope acquired over eons
Of pain that will dissolve
With the first splash of rain
When the seasons change
She wears her scars
Like gleaming tattooes
Tangled hues of red
Painted on her skin
Bruises that never bled
Lonely silver trinkets
Mimic sheeny sparkles
Of pensive eyes, as they
Cling to starry destinies,
Fate written in the winds,
Hope acquired over eons
Of pain that will dissolve
With the first splash of rain
When the seasons change
Blue Pen Strokes 