Whispering Thoughts

I am born daily, out of the dust of stars. With each sunrise, I bring promises of light. A dimpled smile and playing peekaboo, I am your opportunity.

The   vibrant     brilliance    surrenders   to   the   shadows   of  light,  P urple     dreams      come   gliding   under   the moonlight, Blankets of   darkness   interspersed   with     twinkling   glimmers of  hope, The   distance   skies   radiant     with   stains of  respite.

Their fluttering wings rest and flickering imaginations repose against the window. A flight accomplished. Exhausted and spent, now, supperless stomachs of winged guests growl. Double quarter pounder with cheese, and brisk iced blend of orange pekoe, sweetened to perfection, tempts them. Inside the plush AC powered restaurant, incisors gnaw at the meal, oblivious to the fixated eyes marvelling from across the window panes before the empty pockets, blur the vision. The moths must return, with an unsated hunger, and try their luck on garbage cans which will yield, regardless. Another flight begins, with hopes in heart and dreams in head. Linking with Friday Fictioneers

The sidewalks littered With innocent footsteps Outrunning each other To find the best hiding place. The IT counting till hundred Occasionally peeping across And seeing the silhouettes Sliding behind the cobwebbed niches. The pretence of Making the search Calling out, Winning, loosing, Playing and replaying The childhood laughing And celebrating The festival of life, Thoroughly. The spectres of Good old days Peeping now and then Only to find The ruckus of tiddlers Silenced By shadows of youth Wandering through this labyrinth Confounded, Blinded by dimes and dollars. Fractured bodies Supplanted by Fractured souls. Life left behind In Unfrequented dusty alleys. Image by Bill Brandt, 1934 Linking with Light and Shade Challenge

Her every breath, Melody. Her every heartbeat, Playing the rhythm Of drums. Every embrace, Reverberating With warmth, Echoing mellifluously. Each vibe, each note, Euphonous. Her lilting strides, In tandem with the beats. Like a birdsong, The bittersweet lyrics Whispered in the eternity. The journey between the notes, Commanding A standing ovation. I would love to play This songlike life On a repeat mode In my playlist.

The sparrows must sing Busting symphony of love, must revive the woods. Linking with Ronovan Writes: Weekly Haiku Challenge #57

Our hands brushed, Accidentally, of course, By the banks of Beas, Plastering The walls of our castle With soggy silver sparkles. My clumsy patches Smoothened With your finesse. Day-by-day, Our tiny hands Moulding our dreams, Aiming Higher, loftier, stronger, Occasionally ornate, too. And then the chase To the classroom Where we would Sit alongside And learn The impressive Array of facts. We would return, Each day, Only to find Our caresses, corroded And Our footprints, ironed By the eventide. But that didn't deter us. Ever. Sometimes, I wonder if you remember Those recesses by Beas, Or is it just me. This week's photo prompt is provided by Sonya with the blog, Only 100 Words.  Linking with Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers

Farmhands moved away, Lured by the glitz of cities, hopes of better work. Mother earth left deserted, Coffee and jobs both erased. Wild weeds aplenty, Travails lost to empty nests. The bosom, untilled, Several genus trampled. Empty percolators stare. Reminiscent farmlands abound.

Our regular Long distance call Rings With a tone of urgency. Dad and I collaborate, Telephonically, Working out solutions To some technical glitches That faze him. He, narrates the specs I, jury-rig the solutions For a 11-year old desktop That still sits proudly On my study, back home. He sounds alert, Like a sentinel on his duty, With mom’s best iced coffee Working through The complex mesh of His veins and arteries, While The woolly-headed me, Occasionally drifts off. Concerned, he asks me If I need to sleep. A nonchalant “Oh, All I need is coffee” Is what I tell him, But he chooses to listen instead To the unsaid “But somewhere in between Office and cooking And laundry, I forgot to Purchase the staples. Again”. A pause, Longer than expected, And it dawns on me, Muzzy as I am, That the parent in him Will worry at The prospects Of my sustenance and subsistence. Luckily, I have the solution By...

Cloaked shallow contours Shifting through the stage, until Stilled, as shadows be. Linking with Picture it and write

A handful of sand, slipping away, uncontrolled echoes reminders. Squandered, endured or enjoyed, vestiges stay forever. The prompt quotation is Tempus Fugit Linking with Light and Shade Challenge

The curtains of night, Embellished with silver lace. Dappled seaborne clouds, Against silhouttes of cedars, Golden glory ripping them. Linking with Friday  Fictioneers

Thy love gives me voice. Between the lines I scribble, I yearn, surrender. My quill yields, ingeminate, I paint my paper with you.

Born to conquer the wilds, Their free spirits Tamed by human needs. Locked in doghouses, Kennelled and inhibited, The nascent canines Adapting and adjusting To our ways and wills. One day we unlatched The outbuildings Relieving the whimpering gangs Of invisible pain.

Gentle sway of spring. Winged hope flutters, nests awhile. And luck cascades down. Linking with Ronovan Writes - Haiku Challenge #56

They were breathless by the time they reached the hilltop. A humid 31st night of July was definitely not an ideal time to run and hike. But it was "the Blue Moon" night. The legend held that the couples who watched the Blue moon's light bath the tombstones with love were blessed with a "happy everafter" for seven lifetimes. Barely in kindergarten, they did not know how long a lifetime was. What excited them was the prospect of a very long time together. So, they waited while the moon left the tombstones awash with the promise of an endless love. Sempiternal love resting in background, he sealed his date with a little peck on her cheek and whispers of 31st January, 2018 in her ears. She giggled her yes. Hand in hand, they retraced their steps on grassy mound while the Blue moon smiled at them. This week's photo prompt is provided by Louise with “ The Storyteller's Abode .”  Linking with Flash Fiction For Aspiring Writers