Looking forward to taking part in the 2021 Poetry Marathon. All the best to everyone. 😇
They say roses have grace,
Where roses bloom,
The thorns come around too.
Beauty is the rose,
The queen of the garden,
The gift from heaven,
Then where do thorns come in?
“What is beauty without pain?”
wondered the actress,
while polishing her nails again and again.
“The rose is the queen,
Thorns are the useless pawns,”
remarked the gardener,
while sitting on the lawn.
“The rose is the child,
Who saw her petals mercilessly plucked away.
So now she stands all alone,
With thorns as the defense of her own.
She knows the cost of opening up,
So she stays still,
With thorns adorning her stem,
Hidden as they are,
For those who dare to harm her in any way,”
Whispered the girl with the scars,
For the time had taught her,
To build her walls high,
To lean behind the thorns,
Hidden even in plain sight.
- – Addy
Who am I?
I am just a speckle of dust,
Waiting for the wind to carry me back,
Into the land of invisibility and ambiguity.
Where no one knows me,
Where I know no one,
Where I wouldn’t have to fear anyone,
Where I would just be a drop of oblivion in the ocean of Neptune,
Where I would be blessed with peace,
And weaved into Nature without any discrimination.
In this busy world,
Where everyone is rushing to meet deadlines,
To make both the ends meet all the times,
I wonder if anyone yearns for some solitude?
If just for a minute people stop,
They don’t worry about the road jamming traffic,
About missing the train,
About the promotion they didn’t get,
About not being able to go back home during the weekend.
If just for a minute,
Do they yearn for solitude?
For freedom from all these anxious thoughts?
For a time out?
For a few seconds to catch their breaths?
Solitude for everyone holds different meanings,
For a hermit solitude would be a forest or a cave,
Away from human civilization.
For a reader,
Solitude would be a library,
Where she could get lost in the world of literary.
For a chef,
Solitude would be a kitchen,
Cooking dishes seems to calm her faster than any medicine.
Solitude is a cup of coffee.
As the bittersweet flavor of coffee would wake my sleeping senses,
I would pick up a book,
Revel in the fantasy world,
Live the lives of different people,
Travel far and wide,
Without even leaving my home.
Holds different meanings for everyone.
The question is where is your solitude?
Did you even try to stop and look for it?
Living in the woods,
One of the fiercest animals on the land.
Swift as an arrow,
He kills his prey in just one blow.
So mighty, so strong,
As he roams,
Other animals hide inside their homes.
What is that?
Lightning struck the tree,
Fire lit in front of the brave one,
Immediately the tiger runs.
Everyone is afraid of someone,
Even if they don’t admit that to anyone.
Afraid of the fire,
Running for his life,
There goes one of the fiercest animals alive.
It’s not unknown,
The tale about the four seasons,
And the symbolism that each holds.
So let’s start with the Queen of the Seasons – Spring,
Spring Season symbolizes birth.
True to its meaning,
Nature blooms during this season.
Then comes Summer,
Breaking the door down,
With its youthful charm and courage.
Autumn Season the next in line,
Fixes the door diligently,
Symbolizing adultness and maturity.
The fourth season,
We have come to the end of the cycle,
All hail the King of the Seasons – Winter.
Termed as a period of gloominess,
For it brings along some unwanted guests,
Old age and Death.
Winter and Spring,
The King and Queen of the Seasons,
One brings death,
The other birth.
Don’t you see it?
The old-age tale is true,
Seasons represent the cycle of life,
Beginning from the birth and ending with the death,
These are seasons of the life.
I remember clearly,
It was my tenth birthday,
My parents had planned a surprise party.
But what intrigued me,
Was the big brown basket sitting on my bed,
With a red ribbon tied at the end.
At first, I had thought,
Grandma had sent her healthy oatmeal cookies.
But then I saw,
The brown cloth over the basket moved.
Fearfully I tugged the cloth,
Immediately you sprang upon me,
Licking my face as if it were candy.
Your brown eyes,
Looked innocently at me.
Your golden brown fur glistened,
As you sniffed around the unfamiliar room.
That day Mom and Dad had surprised me,
Not with the party,
I knew they were planning for weeks,
But with the new member of our home.
They had given me a gift, a blessing,
That no money could ever buy,
The gift of friendship and loyalty,
Handed to me in a brown basket with a red ribbon.
That day I met Cocoa for the first time,
That day I made a best friend for life,
My four-legged best friend,
Nature is meeting the sky.
The birds are flapping their wings,
As the leaves rustle along with the wind,
While the plants wait patiently to unfurl their flowers.
Even the Earth is awakening,
To witness this beautiful harmony,
Of Nature and Sky together,
Of the Dawn of the Sun.
The dark sky is fading away,
Look there goes the Moon,
One by one her soldiers follow her pursuit,
The stars going after the Queen of the night.
The Blue Sky is getting up,
Awakened by the sound of the marching,
Of the obedient soldiers of the night queen.
There it’s happening,
The Blue Sky is welcoming his brother,
The Sun has arrived.
All stand straight,
The miracle is about to begin.
As the brothers talk,
The Blue Sky merges with the orange-colored ball,
Look there comes the first ray of sunshine.
Everything comes alive with the Sunrise,
Birds are chirping happily,
Flowers are blooming in the fields.
It’s time to get up,
A new day has just begun.
Don’t give up now.
You have traveled for so long,
The destination is around.
Don’t let go now,
You have worked so hard,
It’s time to charge on.
For every person,
Who was forced to bow down,
Who was never given a chance
By this world,
That is too discriminatory,
That lives on in the fantasy,
Propagating the theory of perfect people and the perfect world.
No time to rest,
Brush off the dust,
Keep your eyes on the prize.
You might have lost a battle,
But the war is still raging on.
Don’t give up now,
Don’t let go now.
Such a small four-lettered word,
Holding so much power in my world.
The first word I spoke.
The first person I cried to.
The only person I would go to,
When trouble would knock on the door.
My first friend,
My first teacher,
My selfless protector.
The reason for my existence,
The symbol of divine consciousness.
I dedicate this poem to my mother,
To the woman who taught me everything,
To my biggest supporter,
To my guardian angel,
Who is always looking out for me,
To my Mama,
And her unconditional love for me.