An Ode to a Story-teller

She scrambled herself off the riverbed,
With the puny ghost of a limping thought,
that sacred water would lazily tread,
ravines of today with a tender fraught.
Tailgating the daze of an urban clot,
She yanks out her spent yet infantile heart,
for squinting deadlines and shifting plot,
home-works, her hearth and a grocery cart.
Months usher and the frozen days depart
Twilight sky resembles a looking glass
Story-tellers turtles rabbits, they dart.
Inhale… exhale, this moment too shall pass.
Well, orchids are rare, rose is all she wants,
Frail child will survive, while verity daunts!

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Deepti Sharma

She is a dreamer and her undoing is, she sees the dawn before the rest of the world. Yes, she loves Oscar Wilde. A management graduate and a former entrepreneur, who has finally got her calling in writing, which has been her passion since school. Rekindled it 5 years ago when she started writing her blog. Later wrote poetry and mini fiction for many e journals and online magazines. Have won many poetry and fiction writing contests too. Recently her poem has been published in an anthology 'Emotionally yours'. She is a mother of three who resides in Punjab.

Latest posts by Deepti Sharma (see all)

• Loose Ends - 18 Dec 2020
• Cold Summer - 13 May 2020
• An Ode to a Story-teller - 19 Feb 2020