Hark! The rhythm

Hark! The rhythm. The pellet drum rattles. The dance begins. The creation, the annihilation, the fleeing in-betweens, and beyond these appar...

Saturday, September 12, 2015

Beyond sunset

Tiny sailboat drifts,
Fading into horizon,
Wandering into unknowns.

When the sun has set,
All our labors turn to dust
Like waves return to oceans.



Linking with Friday Fictioneers

18 comments:

  1. Dear Ruby,

    Love the verses, especially the second. Nicely done.

    Shalom,

    Rochelle

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    1. Thank you Rochelle. I learnt a new poetry style and wanted to try it out. I am glad you like the attempt.

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  2. Nicely done. I'm afraid that in the end all our labors do turn to dust.

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    1. Thank you so much. I heard it on television yesterday and the phrase stayed with me.

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  3. Lovely little poem! Love the image of the waves returning to the ocean.

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    1. Thank you so much Alistair. I am glad you liked this little effort.

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  4. Life is like the little sailboats. One never know in which direction it will steer despite one claiming to be in full command.

    Enjoyed reading your poem.


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    1. I like the way you describe the crux of this post.
      Thank you so much Kalpana

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  5. I'd love to be in that canoe right now!

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  6. Hello! The 2nd stanza reminded me of my experience at work everyday. I enjoyed your poem.

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    1. Thank you Vashti. Am glad you enjoyed this little attempt

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  7. I love this, very beautiful. And sometimes I feel like that tiny sailboat...

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  8. Lovely poem, Ruby. Well written. :) --- Suzanne

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Since every thought is a seed, I am looking forward to a delicious harvest.