Garden SongHer music floats through the air Hanging in the autumn breeze Like the scent of the garden flowers; Drowning out the buzzing bees. The sound of her lute creates a misty cloud In his mind as he stands Enthralled. Her voice carried by the afternoon sun (More golden than the honey drops) Suspended over the musky earthy scents Wakened only by the raindrops from The morning showers. And with her voice, and her lute, She strokes him And he feels her soft touch Caress a samurai heart And he tenders down to an orchid flower Brought to life by the touch of the sun. |
Dog EarsHot latte in hands, Warmth seeping through fingers, Savouring the taste – Apple pie. Airport stories Clamouring around A single coffee table: A coffee table of memories. Sifting through the leaves, Chance upon the dog-eared pages Of a well-worn thought pocket. Lavender breeze turns the pages One by one And the dog ears float in front of me. Images, words and silences Twist, turn and intermingle Into shadows, and white spots. Teardrops and smiles Of vainglorious childhood Closeted in a fantastical cloud. Unaware. Unaware. Unaware. |
Rizowana is a third year student of English (Honours) from Delhi University. Literature, music and good food make up her life, as does her love for animals. She tries to maintain a dialogue with simplicity by going back to nature and avoiding people. More of her work can be read at her blog: http://www.rose-shadowland.blogspot.in/
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