Sunday, November 25, 2018

Rusty threshold

Bag: mostly empty,
a rusty toy-truck in hand.
Old-age home's threshold.

Sunday, October 7, 2018

Sea-shells

The buoyant waves,
swirling, twisting,
and swiveling festively,
crash at the shore.
The majestic tides,
those irresistible, raw,
liberating bursts of energy
recede.
The shore sand shines,
littered with beautiful
seashells.
Those empty carcasses
with echoes of ocean
resounding in their depths,
reminiscent of a
life lived beautifully.
Such impermanence,
such transience,
such evanescence.
All temporal affairs
so short-lived.
All joys come to pass.
But in the wake
they leave behind
their indelible mark.
That beautiful ink stain,
bearing exquisite testimony
to the cliché,
not how long you live
but how well you do it.
What worth your life carries?

Photo prompt @ Sandra Crook

Linking with Friday Fictioneers

Friday, October 5, 2018

Poetically yours

She wrote in free verse. 
He suggested a tailed rhyme.
Choral thereafter.


Linking with Haiku Horizons: tail

Wednesday, September 26, 2018

Baby steps

Small strides on a rough path
strewn with fireflies.
Small steps that lead
to beautiful roads, over the time.
Small short steps
that brought us this far.
Baby paced, each day, we walk
with a hope
that we will reach the destination,
that alluring terminus
which keeps us awake most nights.
Small baby steps each single day
praying all the while
that we walk in the right direction,
striving to carve our niche,
howsoever small,
in this majestic expanse.
Walking slowly
underneath the umbrellas
of very many blessings
feeling the bliss, living the moment.
Tiptoeing,
lest the harmony is disrupted.


PHOTO PROMPT © Dale Rogerson

Linking with Friday Fictioneers