Life is often an illusion…. A probable chance or situation, Diverse aspirations, varied dreams, Different trajectories, different visions…. The distant version seems most inviting, Chasing the multiple options, Running after the myriad ambitions, We come to a standstill, Only to realize, It is only an illusion.. A probable chance or situation…
If riches could buy happiness, If beauty could provide solace, If perfection could achieve satisfaction, There would be no soul deprived…
No riches, No Rolex watches, No swanky bungalows, No expensive Irish scotches.. Can get us what, A warm hug, A gentle smile, A pat on the back, A peck on the cheek, can..
A shoulder to cry on, A hand to hold, A mothers lap to lay our head on.. The freedom to make a mistake, And carry on.. And the beautiful soul beside you, provides the space to move on.. This is true love and care 💕
When the doormat lost its way And in the middle of the floor it lay, I was sure it had crossed it’s threshold, Was it trying to enter my kitchen to gain a foothold?
Unhappy with the doormat,. I began to set my foot to find out the cause of the crime, For in the absence of the doormat in place, my floor was messed with grime. So, I set foot in the kitchen…
I questioned the refrigerator, it was cold in response and it trembled.. I questioned the oven, it was hot, and it turned red, beeped & grumbled, I looked at the mixer, it was unused and it simply slumbered, I was at my wits end, to find out, how the doormat fumbled..
I saw the kitchen floor, smeared with flour, A drizzle of butter, and some sugar to add to the score, A bottle of oil, and some vanilla extract, Were some of the ingredients that were ransacked..
The doormat was roped in to cover up the mess, To clean up the spill, without spiking mama’s stress, The operation ‘bake a pie and cake’, was in progress, For a surprise birthday wish, they wanted to express !!
For days and weeks, there are random thoughts, I need to write, but on what? Random flashes flickering in mind, They fail to respond and go through the grind. Topics, puzzles, pictures and figures, Fail to set the neurons to trigger, Trying to pen a few lines, to be poetic, But alas, my writing seems so anemic … Hope to thaw my thoughts out of its frozen state, And have the verses flow out onto the poet’s slate !!
Is she pretty, or are the flowers adding to her beauty? Is she hiding behind a veil of red roses, or are they are covering up her sorrow ? Is she enjoying their fragrance or are they providing solace to her troubled mind? Is she adorning a beautiful ornament or are they adoring her beauty? Either ways we look at it, A woman is as beautiful as the flowers, And the flowers only accentuate her beauty.
Kudos and respect to every woman, this woman’s day and everyday !!