MEMORIES IN MY ARMS

 My arms knew music, the feel of a violin my fingers knew the places where the notes sang well My arms have forgotten the weight of a violin but know well the comforting feel of a baby in their cradle My fingers have forgotten the melodies they played but they have been quite adept at

TO A FRIEND, IN MEMORIAM (for DVerse Poets’ Pub)

You opened that door, too soon, and floated like a butterfly who saw flowers after a long long while. Come back, grace our table once more. Let us raise our tequila glass for what we have become. We’ll drink deep of the life behind and before us. We’ll pucker up at the sour lemon in

AT THE END OF THE DAY (For DVerse)

All things pass and at the end of the day I have nothing but the memories that I wish I could sift through to separate the good from the bad as though I can separate the rose from its thorns. So I go on balancing between joy and regret waiting for time to make them

CLEAN UP

Paper tumbled out of their hiding places; lines and squiggles stared at me showed me little hands struggling to mark their world. Creased souvenirs unfolded stories tucked away in the corners of ages past. “What now?” they asked. Fond sentiments flooded through me while Clutter overflowing threatened my space. I closed my eyes absorbed the

MEMORIES

Fallen leaves lay on the ground scattered, like days shed and left behind brilliant on those mornings illuminated by the sun; sad remains many other times crumbling, disintegrating in silence until they are one with the ground. ~~~ For DVERSE POETS’ PUB’s Open Link Night. I hope all of you are doing beautifully well.  It’s

FORGOTTEN

The sentry keeps its vigil over life from ages past Can it  remain steadfast when time wouldn’t stand still? Against its shell, now fragile Decay attacked and marched The sentry keeps its vigil over life from ages past. Oblivion is a bitter pill to memories once held fast Has Time caught up at last? Though