Pritha's pomes

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


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The Pebbles and the Footprints…

Black and white they stretched for miles,

Little pebbles along my beautiful shore.

I loved bathing them each time my waves crashed,

Only to recede and have them asking for more.

I cleansed the beach at the break of dawn,

I wet it with romance in the middle of the night,

Yet, there was never a time that I didn’t see,

Two pebbles that stood motionless to every wave in sight.

As I kissed them gently one spring morn,

I whispered quietly in their ear…What is it that holds you to your ground ?

When all the other pebbles seem to move in fear?

Smoothed with age and with my every tide,

The pebbles shone like  jewels on the shore.

We mark a spot that you have washed many a times, they said

Of two pairs of footprints that are here no more.

I caressed them softly one more time,

As I regaled in the pristine beauty of my frothy white

What do you talk of, little pebbles ? I asked,

Where are these footprints that have been lost from your sight ?

The pebbles told of a story from long ago,

Of a love that was new, bold, and had just taken flight.

The footprints, they said, were all I left behind,

As my ravenous waves too hungered for their love that night.

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Silence…

There are words and still more words,

Yet, for my thoughts they will never suffice.

There are moments when time stood still,

And memories that still take me by surprise.

There is beauty in the joy of love.

The bliss of knowing no guilt or shame.

But in all this cacophony around me,

It is in my silence, when I call out thy name.


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Loss of Innocence

The first Gulf War hit Kuwait on August 2nd 1990. A lot of people lost a lot of precious things. My then thirteen year old brother lost the innocence of his childhood. This poem is dedicated to him and to others like him with stories that didn’t make the news headlines but remained etched in their souls for the rest of their lives.

Loss of Innocence…

I remember the blue skies and I recall the sand,

The spray of the ocean and the heat of the land,

I remember a time when there was the deserts were free

When my friends and I would ride our bikes as far as the eyes could see.

Tanks and bazookas were in TV shows for fun,

Guns and war games were for routine playtime under the sun,

The evening prayer call was when mom lit the incense,

To not chomp down our meals during the Holy Month, just made common sense.

It all changed after that one fateful day,

I was told I couldn’t go back to the grounds where I had learnt to play,

The home we grew up in, was no longer our own,

Every memory of my childhood seemed lost and forlorn.

Not sure when, but I know a part of me went still,

Was there a moment in time when I realized, this void would never fill?

Reality struck me like a bolt from the blue,

As all the colors of my childhood, got lost in a strange desert hue

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