There are poems in the forest Waiting to be found Among the trees and leaves Fireflies alight to the ground. There are forests in the poems Unexplored, unfound There are poems in the forest Waiting to be found.     Branches that those blithe spirits…

The moment when the sun subsides from cloud to fire and dips behind another hide-and-go-seek through the outer rims of space given to those who want it to feel like it had before when nothing was innocent Is fair game, what did I have to…

No sleep for hours on end, Inches away from penning an ode on my bed, Haven’t even risen to stretch and bend, Typing away with one hand on my head. My eyes burning, rimmed red, But I keep going, I keep fighting, Only a mere…

He has needed you from the moment he first saw you. At first the attention was light and flirtatious and you thought it gave you joy. Then he became more demanding, wanting to walk by your side and watch you while you were sleeping…till he…

Taking me to different universes My own personal medium of transport Books whisk me a way leaving nothing behind Heart of mine racing   I love them so with all of my heart and soul Reading always makes me feel like I am home Affiliated…

I can’t imagine a life Without his smile That bright beam that lights My way through The worst days Shining brighter My best… He’s a silly tease with Innocence abounding Simple toilet humor And a penchant for Causing my senses to revolt. He’s mama’s boy…

Who came into my life even before I was married As I followed his Court for the sheer entertainment A man of temper, particular to a fault, no mumbling And bumbling in that Courtroom was allowed. He tried to take the place of my own…

Perks of being of the female gender, So many, it addles my brain. Not being able to take a walk at night, Just one of the very many. Do everything in our power, To make sure we don’t feel powerless, But powerful, oh I haven’t…

That thin line between the full moon and insanity… That ribbed edge of the flower bed where only weeds grow… That gold brocade of the wedding saree I never wore again… That flicker of light caught in a raindrop poised to fall… That quiet chirp…

To write a self portrait I have to step back And take a long good look at myself. I turn to the mirror, eyes, ears, nose, check. Two hands, two legs, a torso, quite a normal (albeit short) human specimen. Unruly hair, Glasses that balance…