Old man summer
craggy brook beds his veins
parched skin cracked
fissures stretched moisture lost in pain
His fingers curl around velvet buds
squeezing youth plumping his flaccid river
flowers wink as gnarled limbs droop
a zephyr shakes off sweaty wings
Decadent virility licks peeling lips
a roe quickens within redolent spring
a whirlwind fling a swansong trills
an old man in the season clings.
©Reena Prasad 25th feb 2013
No time to live life, the way I love
No time to sit back or scroll through my own thoughts
No time to smile back at the smiling virtual faces
No time to type the words as they hurry past
No time to day dream about the rain
pouring upon thirsty grounds in a place far away
The world is too much in my way
as I tie up loose ends,unpack some memories
Real or unreal only time can say
A season too hot to venture out
A sentence coming to a temporary end
counting the last weeks till I fly home
packing bags with stuff that apologises for my absence
from the meaningful days in the lives of loved ones.
©Reena Prasad 7th June 2012( a Vacation post on fb)
POETRY SUBMISSIONS: NOW OPEN!!!! “PUPPET ON A STRING” « Poetry by Barry Mowles. Join in friends!! after “Liking” Barry Mowles Fan page! Theme is Life, death or destiny!
Resilient to the onslaught of emotions,
it stands aloof in its bony cloak of eccentric grooves
red pride radiating from its diverging chambers.
Life twists around, never willing to stray afar
gurgling among the crimson waves.
The human heart -the mark of a race
A remarkable, pulsating dam
finding comfort in its own stoic lyrics
mindfully keeping the rhythms alive.
It never could identify its beginning
for it was born with the compulsion to throb
nor does it care to learn
the direction of the end of time’s tunes.
Inevitability of its thuds, a lesson to boredom’s youth.
Braving the swirling illusions of the universe,
it keeps within the limits of love and play
amidst the fickleness of its seasons.
To begin to question may cause an isoelectric line
detrimental to human existence.
When the echoes of the night
BUTTERFLIES OF TIME- A CANVAS OF POETRY 