My wrinkles hold many memories tucked between their folds,
to be buried with me.
Today, I look into the mirror,
proud of each scar I carry, each joy I experienced.
As the moonlight casts its lambent glow,
I smile, celebrating my journey of life.
44 words
An old sepia toned picture kindled wistful memories
of the bygone days.
I was the diva of rhythmic prowess,
tiptoeing my way on to the stage.
Full of nimble balletic grace,
pirouetting with poise, to the musical cadence.
I was crowned the
Dancing Queen
to a thunderous applause.
Today, my passion for dance has drifted into oblivion,
as I strive to prove myself in the rat race.
It sadly rests in peace
buried under the busyness of life,
in a dark corner of my soul!
Thank you Lillian for hosting Poetics at dVerse. This week’s prompt is to use one line from Dancing Queen , a composition by ABBA. I’ve used : Dancing Queen.
The diagnosis, screeched their busy schedules to a grinding halt,
causing a major upheaval, it cast a somber shadow of gloom.
Allaying their fears, they emerged from the shocking daze,
draped their pain with a tapestry of mental resilience.
Chucking their jobs, they filled their bucket list with wishes unlimited,
set out to live the handful of remaining life, fulfilling each of them.
They traveled far and wide, discovered new facets about each other,
laughed to their hearts content, indulged in childish pranks.
In a battle against time, they walked down the reminiscent boulevard,
energizing their grieving hearts with gracious gratitude.
Savoring every moment together, they lived life to the fullest,
creating beautiful memories, before death would do them apart.
I walk down the nostalgic boulevard of memories.
As fading sunlight lingers across the horizon,
vintage sepia toned to vivid vibrancy,
my repertoire of reminisces,
paints a mélange of emotions.
Portrays an abstract of my life gone by
before waning under the dusky veil.
Quadrille #136 (44 words)
Written for dVerse. Today’s host Linda says: The word today is Linger or any form thereof.
Seasonal transition follows nature’s rhythm.
Once full of supple verdurousness
today, I mirror a dull ochre expression.
Diluted veins sap my strength,
I am blown away by the gust of wind,
my withered soul drifts away from home.
I twirl to the rhythmic breeze, explore faraway places,
at times crushed beneath the hurried feet.
I hold no grudges.
Graceful surrender and acceptance, fills me with peace.
Nature’s lullabies cajole me to deep slumber
into mother earth’s welcoming bosom..
3 twenty word stories in response to Bulbul’s TWT prompt : Poison
1. A seed of doubt sprout in her mind, concocting baseless stories. Self-poisoning led to the death of their beautiful relationship.
2. Few religious fanatics with ulterior motives, poison gullible young minds with the promise of heaven, tearing apart the nation’s soul.
3. Callous attitude, selfish motive, reckless dumping of plastic. Aren’t we slow poisoning our planet and digging our own grave?
Before the pandemic struck us, a typical scene from any city around the globe was very similar. At the end of a long day at work, a swarm of people would rush to the stations, their heads down, glued to their mobiles. Oblivious of their surroundings or fellow passengers, most of them would be immersed in work or on a call. Sapped of energy, they would chug along to reach home, every day, defining life, in its mundanity.
The pandemic brought the life’s train to a grinding halt. The sudden impact left man totally lost, throwing him completely off track. The lock down has to a great extent, initiated a change to his perspective on life and its meaning. All this time he was chasing a mirage, mistaking success for happiness, in the bargain turning a blind eye to those little things, that added value to life.
Today, man has slowed down the pace at which he is traversing on this journey of life. He has realised if his life’s train derails and its journey comes to an abrupt end, before reaching its last station, his pursuit for hollow victories may after all be in vain.
Life is a sojourn between birth and death. One should enjoy the beauty of the changing landscape, being present each moment, for each stop brings with it an experience, before its time for us to alight at the final destination.
Finally, freed from the mortal body,
the soul travels on an astral journey,
where endless peace envelopes it.
Word count :18
Hope my final journey will be as beautiful as this.
In response to Bulbul’s 20 word story, I have written two tales…one happy and another sad.
Hectic lifestyle had taken a toll on Sachi’s life. Quarantine introduced her to her unknown self, which lay buried deep.
Tested positive and in quarantine, he could not attend his mother’s funeral. The feeling of absolute helplessness numbed his heart.
The Sunday tea meeting was a ritual, the Hashimoro family carried out without fail. The elderly couple lived by themselves in their old ancestral home. Their son, daughter in law and both the grandchildren visited them from the city, which was about an hour’s drive from there.
Every Sunday no matter what, the family never failed to be present for this evening of bonding over tea. Life went on as usual until old Mr. Hashimoro passed away.
After his death, his wife continued to live alone in the house as she had many beautiful memories attached to the place.
The following Sunday evening, with a heavy heart Mrs. Hashimoro, set the table with five tea cups, looking sadly at the sixth one in the cupboard, missing her husband even more. She went into the kitchen to get some snacks to serve along with the tea. The plate of cookies dropped from her trembling hands as she came to the table. The sixth tea cup was on the table….
radhikasreflection 