Old Works

I often wonder why I have stopped writing poems. It is as if the poetic muse have just left me totally. Anyway, I was re-looking at my old poems and I really wonder how I managed to write then.. Here are some of my favs...

Yearnings

(I)

At dawn's breath
I went to the meadows;
accompanied by the gay of yester-shadows.
Each step forward,
less of a gay the shadows be,
Each step forward,
how long before I have thee?


(II)

Standing by the window
on a moonless night,
A comforting breeze blows,
as I think of you.
Silence wreaks throught the air;
only to be destroyed by the crickets.
So do my thoughts;
as I think of you.


(III)

A dreary morn I wake;
to find the sun sagging as
he reflects the frost-bitten pavement of winter's dusk.
I dragged my feet on the deserted street;
for no rhytmic beat was present;
upon the streets of pristine snow.

No song did the lark sing,
for no joy did winter bring.

I yearn for the oncoming summer;
whose smiles is warm like yours
and whose joy radiates into celestial realms.

So come quickly, my lovely summer.
For one's embrace warms the yearning heart.

Bark Scratching

In the months of the monsoonal rains,
I hear the cacophony created by these little beings pelting against my window sill.
A petit being I was, as I peered out of my doorway with aching pains,
Making sure the house is still,
I trod along the moisten path and lay bare upon the moist-smitten trees.


Scratching on the dark, rocky barks,
I lay myself in fervent stark,
Till I was weary,
I sat upon the dreary
Roots of that old tree
Thinking that I’ll be free
And wondering will anyone see
My scratching on that old, dark tree.

Well.. tell me what you think!