Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 May 2017 SallyS
Sobriquet
Throw your line down
and sit with me below,
beside the cray pots and the fish.

remember the gifts the sea gave up
the rocks and stories that made their way into my pockets
for your indifferent hands to overlook on the windowsill.

Throw your line down
beside the ***** and tangled weeds,
and remember a single line
is not enough to tame an undertow
that sings arias to the moon.
Time has no end, a true gift from Christ.
It is never too late to fix an issue that you had.
Only by death is it to late to right an wrong.
For Time can heal all wounds, I know this is true.
For much wisdom , from my past mistakes do I see.
Now after so long, rejection that I had received.
Was just the opposite that I had perceived as truth.
Now that truth has been seen finally by my eyes.
Christ can finally bring healing to my eyes and minds.
 May 2017 SallyS
Austin Bauer
Be the wildflower
springing up from the pebbles
on the mountainside.
Because of you, I have no fear nor worry in my life.
Because of you, I can face tomorrow every single day.
Because of you, I do not need to fear death at any time.
Because of you, I have everything that I shall ever need.
Because of you, there is Great Joy that is in my life here.
Because of you, I have a Great purpose to fill my hours.
Because of you, I am stronger than I was yesterday too.
Because of you, I cam do anything for you are mt strength.
Because of you , I am Blessed beyond measure as well.
 May 2017 SallyS
Valsa George
I am a rain drop flopped down from the clouds
I could have landed in a river or the sea
Then merging with the rising and receding waves
I would have been washed down into oblivion

Or could have fallen from the heights
Into a desolate dreary desert
Amid the blistering granules of sand
To be absorbed into nothingness

Chances are there to have fallen on a rock
Lying scorched in the heat of the mid day sun
Then I would have vanished into thin air
Evaporating into non existence

I could have fallen into a muddy puddle
Or perhaps into a filthy drainage
To be contaminated with the sewage
Or be the breeding ground of worms and bugs

But fortunately for me
I happened to fall into fecund soil
Where there lay in wait a few seeds
Hankering for the cool touch of moisture

Arid souls desperately thirsting for water,
They ****** the molecules within me.
As their dry kernel got soaked and puffed,
Slowly they sprouted and grew into life.

Absorbing again the drops that came after me
They, into towering trees eventually grew
Some touching heaven’s azure heights
And giving shade and shelter to many

Now as I see them crested with flowers
And bearing clusters of luscious fruits
I feel I am there in each leaf and bud
And my essence flows through every vein!

As a teacher, what more is needed for me
To feel contented in life?
For the last several years, I have been teaching in a college. Now my students are scattered everywhere in the world! Some of them are so well placed and some adorning key positions in life. Seeing them, I feel so proud and happy! India is a land where teachers are greatly respected. ‘Mata, Pita, Guru, Daivom’ is a sacred credo of our ancient culture. It means next to God come mother, father and teacher!
 May 2017 SallyS
Valsa George
Realizing a fresh life growing inside,
What thoughts coursed through my mother’s mind?
Did she gleefully welcome the news?
Or respond to it with a violent shock?

So sure, right away after her fourth baby
With four little kids still needing care
Like chicks in a coop, carrying once again
Might not have been in her scheme of things

Thus at a time when she expected it the least,
Could she beckon the new life growing inside,
With a pleasant nod of head in assent
Or with a suppressed moan of fright, I wonder!

When from nausea she started to suffer
And threw up each time when she ate
Did she curse her man in silence?
Or grow mad with her children and her fate?

Slogging through those weary days
With no respite from her routine chores
Did she get enough rest or care?
Or did she languish without a hand to assist?

Seeing her with an extended waist line
Did some nosy neighbors behind her back
Teasingly utter in hushed whispers
‘Oh, she has done it again!’

Once when I started kicking inside
Was she tickled or greatly annoyed?
When she heard the first ‘lub- dub’ of my heart
Did she feel as two hearts singing in harmony?

As her tummy grew bigger everyday
And sleepless in bed as she tossed
Was she haunted by nightmares bleak?
Or was she visited by dreams of delight?

Travelling closer and closer to those final days
Did she curse herself seeing her in the mirror
Woefully bloated and ripened into a bulge
Or did she wait my arrival in blissful expectation?

Then suddenly one day when the earthquake began
In mild tremors first, then gaining in force
Did she scream mad or cry aloud?
Or did she endure the pain in austere silence?

Then abruptly when I showed myself up
Did she feel any remorse over my ***?
And see me as another liability
Added up to the girls already in line

No, I am sure she must have cuddled me close
And locked me in the warmth of her *****
For she was such a rare gift sent from heaven
A mother nonpareil in self effacing love
This poem, I thought would be interesting to many of you to have an idea of the cultural difference from country to country and to show how life was in the fifties and sixties for an average woman living in an Indian village

Being wife and mother, life was hardly easy for any woman in a patriarchal set up during those days. Child bearing was a routine affair and taking care of the children with none to help was her lot. Men who were the sole bread winners would be away at their place of work…! Even if at home, they hardly lend a helping hand. Girls were always marginalized and looked upon as a liability as they could be sent away in marriage only by giving huge amounts as dowry! Now things have changed and most of the women are employed and earning members!

  March 8th- when we celebrate the International Woman’s Day, I dedicate this poem to my dear mother whom I regard as a great woman and a paragon of love and care.
 May 2017 SallyS
Valsa George
Spring clothes the Earth in silk of green
And parades her in a rare sheen
Summer gifts the plants with bloom
And causes the bees to hum and zoom
Autumn makes the leaves yellow
And blesses the season with fruits mellow
Winter brings hail and snow
With icy winds that blow and blow
Now as one round of seasons is about to complete and another to begin afresh, this is a thought over the seasons in their bare simplicity! So short that you can read it in a split second without batting an eyelash!
 May 2017 SallyS
Valsa George
Humming a soft tune
came down the wind
With airy fingers,
it tousled my hair
Rubbing its cold cheeks
on mine, tickling me,
it reeled round
tugging at my skirt
like a naughty kid
and amorously lifting it up
like a lover
Like soft tendrils
it coiled all around me
inviting me for a waltz

Between hushed breaths
and murmured tones
it talked to me endless
whispering sweet nothings
in my attentive ear

I felt love pouring down on me

I wished to cage it
to enjoy its sweet company
But like an apparition,
it disappeared into thin air!

I couldn’t follow its trail
but as it passed, I saw
a tumbleweed tremble
far above the ground!
 May 2017 SallyS
Valsa George
‘He who rises from prayer a better man, his prayer is answered’
                                                   - George Meredith
      
In the solemn silence of the cathedral
Close to the 'sanctum sanctorum'
Away from the din of the world
I sat in prayer for hours

In deep adoration as I sat with eyes closed
Envisioning Him at the inmost shrine of my heart
I sensed His living touch all over my body
The one without form lifted me in His arms

Like a child clinging to a caring father
I opened my heart before Him
Placed my life’s burdens at His feet
Asked for gifts my frail hands could hold!

Coming out, relieved and enriched
At the gate I was greeted by a beggar
Dressed in rags, his hair lying wildly matted
With sores in his body, he looked a piteous sight

In his outstretched hands was a begging bowl
His lips were pleading in silence
From my bounty, I gave him something
And saw the glitter in his hazy eyes

Can I ever discriminate him
When we both do the same thing
While he begs before me outside the shrine
I beg before the Lord inside the shrine!
A very simple write straight and unostentatious with no word play ! I don't know if it can be called a poem!
 May 2017 SallyS
Valsa George
Rain beats down on the window pane
As the flood gates of Heaven suddenly open
It is pouring out in torrential flow
Like a Reservoir, all at once, broken

It has come down as a welcome respite
To fan away the humid sweltering heat
It falls in drops and flows in rivulets
Washing the dust of summer drought

With a sudden burst from the weight laden clouds
It lashes down in steam and fury
Plummeting to form ripples in puddles
And filling pools and ponds in hurry

In slanting sheets, it almost pounds
Flooding roads and making puddle
Gushing through pipes and rushing down drains
Water floods, causing men to waddle

Rain has its abode in heavens so high
And hides behind clouds of mournful gloom
In silver strings, it spans the Earth
And cleanses the plants in resplendent gleam

Sudden is the wind, coming to shoo away the clouds
And the sky is once more cerulean blue
As the music stops and the humdrum stills
The water seeps, giving no evident clue.

After an angry couple’s furious fight,
As the house goes back to an uncanny calm,
The rain has vanished, leaving little trace
Cooling the Earth and causing no harm
Sorry friends....... there is a problem with my site ! My computer goes so slow when it comes to Hello poetry. So I am not in a position to post comments or respond to comments. I shall do it when my computer becomes better. Thanks for reading and commenting! After a long gap, only today I got the option... 'Add' a poem!
Next page