Am I here, or there
Nowhere? Yet everywhere?
Around you, in the scent,
Irresolute, and indefinable,
A whiff, that comes upon the
Light breeze of memories?
Or the heaviness of reality?
The tides turn, tuned to
A testy treacle moon
As you do, and I…
Awash, washed away,
Smothered, cloying
The fragrance of love
Sometimes
Is overpowering.
I am, therefore,
Waxing poetic,
In the light of the
Waning moon.
Still, longing,
Yearning, as that
Fox… Unrequited.
Unrepentant.
12 July, 2011
Some stories need to be said... Some need to be heard.
Longreads : The best longform stories on the web
of books, food and friendship!
A journey to find new meaning after personal loss
In the Indian context
writer, storyteller, veteran (see BirchBark Editing.com and MaxieJaneFrazier.com for more)
And, yes, i love to limerick || Have tried to master the trick || Of the a a b b a rhyme || 'Tis a joy truly sublime || When a verse comes out slick and quick!
A life of books . . .
The fresh smell of life.
Mind over matter
When you look out, what do you see?
A fine WordPress.com site
and sometimes trying on new ones for fit (and looks)
Vanity, On A Royal Scale
The world through my lens.....
To Share... To Love... What better way than words
One Step at a Time
All that remains.
I like birds
Comics, Cartoons, Writings.
Malayalam mini-series
Learning something new every day.
A Quest on Overdrive ... :) 
July 24, 2011 at 8:00 am
Worry not for the waning moonas it will grow again very soonand you will be granted a boonfor your love will hear your communeand a butterfly will emerge from the cocoon.
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July 24, 2011 at 2:14 pm
Thank you Govind. No matter, the sun, moon or boon, a butterfly will have to emerge now!
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