Pritha's pomes

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


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My ode to joy …

Much too often we lose sight of joy in an effort to look for it. It is everywhere if we just let ourselves feel its different shades.

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In moments of innocence
In beats of childhood
In the gaiety of freedom
Joy abounds.

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In the fire of youth
In the passion of life
In the sweet sorrows of love
Joy abounds

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In the monotony of the mundane
In the simple joys of everyday
In treasuring things unchanged
Joy abounds.

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In the romance of surprises
In the stupor of thrills
In the pursuit of mirages
Joy abounds.

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In the stillness of time
In the twilight of memories
In knowing one has lived, and loved, without reason
Joy abounds.


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this game called life…

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There are days of unbounded joy,
There are nights of incomprehensible tears,
For all those times you blame the heart and wish it were made of stone,
For all those times you soar the skies in laughter unbridled,
For the ones who got away,
For the ones who forever stayed,
It all adds up in the end in this game we play…
And call it Life.

Photo Credits: Window Shots by Smriti Lekha Bhaumik


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It is I…

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.

 

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Picture Source: http://ww1.hdnux.com/photos/02/30/17/623608/3/628×471.jpg


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… those kohl laden eyes…

Alabaster and gold couldn’t compare in grace,
To the sculpted beauty of that beautiful face.

The perfumes of various exotic lands,
Fell short of the fragrance of her delicate hands.

Her rose tinted visage , a cynosure of all eyes
Often did wonders to a smile, that left little to disguise.

Desired and admired, she was by quite a few,
But true love was for the only love she ever knew.

Her story however ended before it began,
And from life and living, she forever ran.

Her grace and charm, decades later, still continue to mesmerize…
But no one saw her smile, ever again, reach those kohl laden eyes…

(inspired by someone whose melancholy beauty was more than skin deep and the stark loneliness of her persona emanated with a sense of quiet dignity and immense grace…)

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A desert tale…

She  bloomed like any flower would,

Gentle at first and sensual after.

Innocent and heady, her fragrance spread

Through the desert sands like her sparkling laughter.

 

She dreamed of a life where the grass was green,

Where the blazing sun didn’t scorch her eyes.

She wished for a glimpse of what she hoped,

Would be that vision, of her very own paradise.

 

Months rolled to years and then some more,

Many a visitor sought a place in her heart.

She smiled and tarried a while now and then

Relishing the moments but then drifted apart.

 

Far away in the distant sands,

A cherished vision once caught her lonely eyes,

As if the gods had finally heard,

And granted her a glimpse of that paradise.

 

A rider on a stallion black,

Resplendent in the afternoon sun,

Teased her senses from afar,

Causing her heart and soul to break into a run.

 

Her flowing robes and auburn tresses,

…wrestled with the winds as she ran,

While her kohl laden eyes seemed to search,

For that handsome visage that would belong to her man

 

As the sands turned to copper with the setting sun,

She called out to him with all her might,

But her voice, like her breath,

Was drowned in the silence of that desert night.

 

Her kohl laden eyes closed forever,

With one last glimpse of her divine love,

Unaware her vision was just a mirage

She found her final solace under the stars above.

 

Her tale of love, just like her laughter,

Spread through the land like some cosmic prose.

And as soul mates found their bliss under those very stars,

They sometimes spared a thought for a lonely desert rose.

 

 

 

 

 

 


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Twilight tears…

The boats came in one by one,  as twilight kissed the ocean blue

Like fireflies from a distant land, they filled up the misty hue.

The shoreline was a field of dreams, with smiling faces all around.

I steeled myself to the beautiful eve, and just waited for a distant sound.

A sound I knew I may not hear, because the music within me had died

Your soft farewell eons ago, still beat against my heart till it cried.

Yet amidst the song and cheer, I waited for the one I love.

With silent tears of hope and prayer, transfixed towards the ONE above.

The boats all found their home ashore, into loving embraces their owners went.

I tarried a while and then I knew, it was just another meaningless evening spent.

Gone was that music, as were you, and yet it was all so fresh in my mind.

Truer words weren’t spoken, when it’s said,  time doesn’t always heal a word unkind.


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First love…

Her letters didn’t remain for  very long,

Nor did the ink last through the years.

Her fragrance, she thought, was forgotten by him,

As were  all of her silent and unshed tears.

Sands of time found different dunes

Landscapes changed every where

Yet when ever she heard his name,

She knew deep within her, he was still there.

When their paths crossed suddenly, one Chrstimas eve,

In joy and hurt she lowered her eyes.

The lines on their faces and their grays of age

Told of silent tales that neither could surmise.

She went her way with a cane in hand,

While his held a little toddler’s toy,

Yet in that twlight hour they both knew,

She was still the girl who filled him with joy.