Still Waters

Painting by Mrs. Ratna Pochiraju

The reflection froze for eternity

The silver lake refused to ripple

Was it sharing my grief?

Mourning the loss of my soul mate.

The silver lake refused to ripple

Not a fish nor a reed in sight

Mourning the loss of my soul mate

Leaving me alone in the eerie silence.

Not a fish nor a reed in sight

The sun too hid behind the gray clouds

Leaving me alone in the eerie silence.

Mirroring my anguish and lost love.

The sun too hid behind the gray clouds

Was it sharing my grief?

Mirroring my anguish and lost love.

The reflection froze for eternity. 

The poem is written in Pantoum style from the POV of the swan.

The Winding Path

Painting by Vadrevu Ch Veerabhadrudu

There, far away on the grey path
Hand in hand were a mother and son
Enjoying the fragrance of the blushing daffodils.

Wild and happy the flowers bloomed
Inviting the lush grass to tangle along the border.

Nearer they went to the aquamarine water
Delighted as the sapphire hills welcomed them.

Impeccably azure, the sky
Nudged the sun to be gentle and calm.

Gathering the colors one at a time
Pausing for hours to watch the dancing trees,
A pair of hungry souls
Took the winding path,
Hoping to imprint Nature's masterpiece in their hearts forever.



Ekphrastic poem coupled with Acrostic style.

The Empty Sailboat

Painting by Mrs. Ratna Pochiraju

Floating in the middle of the inky waters
was the empty sailboat.

A stark white against the dark sky
was the empty sailboat.

Unmoving as the hazy reflection,
was the empty sailboat.

Fluttering wings danced around, yet silent
was the empty sailboat.

Lonely than I felt in this world,
was the empty sailboat?

In the standstill breeze waiting with hope,
was the empty sailboat?

Yearning to sail away to the exotic lands,
was the empty sailboat?

Willing to carry me along,
was the empty sailboat?

Or mocking my questions,
was the empty sailboat?

Proud or alone, haughty or hopeless,
was the empty sailboat?

Silent as the blue abyss around us,
was the empty sailboat.


After an almost non-productive January, I was determined to write for the Feb prompts. And, I got lucky!
Ekphrastic poems are my favorite kind. I've done these before and enjoyed the process of creating a poem.
Chant style though seems to be my new favorite. 

Ten Years Challenge

The image is taken from pixabay. 

Ten years challenge
echoes the world;
nodding, hiding, sharing
years of life in two pictures
even as I wonder if it is that easy.
All those months, weeks, days
remember when it was hard to breathe?
Sighs of defeat,
cries of anguish,
heaps of smashed hopes
arranged as stepping stones.
Listen to the beating heart,
love the warrior in you,
embrace the strength in your smile.
Now, it's time, my dear,
gather the remains of courage,
excited is the world, to see the new you.

Note:
The above work is inspired by a poem written by my friend for the #10yearschallenge.
The above poem is written in Acrostic style. 

Sweetheart

The image is taken from Pixabay

Sweeter than honey, your words flowed through my veins,
Wilder than the abandoned grass, my love grew,
Evergreen, it flourished for you,
Everlasting, your promises echoed in my body,
Tender memories kept me warm on the cold nights, as my
Heart refused to let go of a dream,
Even when you insisted it was over between us.
Away, you went, laughing and wooing another girl,
Repeating the same promises in a husky tone.
Trust me, my sweetheart, you will be mine alone.





The poem is written in Acrostic style. 

Ode to the Empty Nest

The image is taken from Pixabay

Flying in the dark sky on a cold evening,
small wings fluttering against the wintry chill,
searching in vain for the warmth of the lost home;
bird's quest for a nest.

Vast empty land greets the tried bird from beneath,
neither a tree nor a brick shelter in sight,
hungry and desperate for a miracle;
the bird gave up flight.

Not so far away, a mother sat waiting,
hoping for the return of its young fledgling,
buried deep under the layers of fresh white snow;
the nest was empty.

The first star rose higher, spreading its magic,
the breeze nudging the brave one to destiny,
a shallow and a sparrow found each other;
the nest was happy.



Sapphic Ode 

Harley Quin

The image is taken from Pixabay

Sipping tea from my favorite Harlequin cup, I thought about the days in 1938. Popular as a narcissist, my life had more tears than laughter.

“Granny! We got daffodils for you.”
It was the twins, Harley and Quin.
They gifted me smiles and peace.