Pritha's pomes

Some rhyme, romance and a wee bit reason maybe, bear with me ?

It is I…

1 Comment

The little girl with the braided locks

In her pinafore with the matching socks,

Her eyes filled with stories untold

It was I, a little miracle, waiting to unfold.


That lovely lass, in the afternoon sun,

Full of life, gaiety, and mindless fun,

Falling in love for the very first time,

It was I, trying to make my verses rhyme.


That beautiful face behind a veil,

Those quivering lips as life set sail,

A friend, a lover, a consort for life,

It was I, smiling through every strife.


That joyous face filled with pride,

Those skipped heartbeats, when a little baby cried,

That best friend, and a punching bag,

It was I, a mother looking for innocent moments to brag.


The silver locks glistening in the sun

The laugh lines that wrinkle at every pun,

Those sunsets when the sky turns to gold

It is I, reflecting moments young and old.


The lover who has been romanced in the light of the moon,

The mother who was dismissed, a moment too soon,

It is I, you have always found by your side,

In all my roles, as a woman of pride.



Picture Source:×471.jpg


Author: Yours Truly, Pritha

Professionally have I OD'd on OD ( organizational development ) for over a decade and more . Personally, I am all about making the mundane a wee bit more meaningful and of course a lot more fun in the process. In the course, of course, I very often fall flat on my face, but the joy of getting up makes it worth the "trip" ! Visit, explore, and do write back what you thought, and why you will come back again or never ever; either way I am grateful you dropped by ! Am quite a scatterbrain which is synonymous with being a Saggittarian, so don't take me too seriously; I try not to :) on most of my sensible days. On "other" days, I have more than enough very very well meaning well wishers, who do that for me and land me safely back to earth ! What would I do without them I wonder ? And then I pause, and I often ponder. For all the times I haven't let them be, How on earth would they feel, they were saner than me? Arguably and not so humbly yours... Pritha PS: And yes.. a new mom at 41 is my new identity and I am writing a new chapter with my little girl one gurgle at a time...

One thought on “It is I…

  1. Brilliantly put.. not that i understood great deal of poetry and ofcourse i am biased towards anything that rhymes..

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