You immerse me in your love Grandma dear You waft me to fairyland Where I, the little princess, Beam proudly Enjoying adulation Your cherubic smile
Author: Sarita Khullar
Rain and Children
It’s raining, it’s pouring Life has become so boring, Can’t go outside to play or bike Scene outside is alluring, It’s raining, it’s pouring, New
Humans of God
Vessel of human deeds Enshrine in human hearts Serene compassion and Satanic pleasure or Either of these can dwell Let’s decide what to choose Our
Acceptance
I found life hurting as I grew, Showing me its hues all along Till I left to higher power, To make me live with love,
Fragrant Memories
Smoked and Blackened temple openings. Due to constantly burning incense, Slowly brings back cherished memories Of our mother’s soft soothing
Last Meeting
I knew you were sick but that much! Eyes gave recognising flicks, A bubbly girl lying helpless as such, Body bearing a dozen pricks, White as
Finding Self
Gayatri had always dreaded her school reunions unlike most of the alumnae of her famous St. Joseph’s Convent School. She would certainly have given it
The Girl Next Door
“No,” I tell my mother blatantly, I am not to take care of this naughty girl, She gets me late for school everyday, “Why?” mother
Live Your Dream
Dare, dive deep into the spring of life, Dwell on the precious moments you get, Dream frequently, let dreams with enthusiasm rife, Dare turbulent waves
Child Labourers
In a dingy room I stay, With tell tale signs of decay A dozen of starving children Live here in conditions rotten A vague memory of childhood
My Little Dog
Here he jumps and sleeps on water, Sprawling like a huge slimy frog, My golden brown cute silly dog, Wetting room with drops that spatter,
Plea of a Tired Wanderer
An old canoe lies beneath the sunny sky, Bare, weather beaten and dilapidated, Close companion of my younger days, Dared me to places far and
A Lost Paradise
Lavander flowers dancing in warm zephyr of spring, Gloam paints the valley with shades of amethyst, carmine, Mauve saffron buds dance in the fields of
When I Am No More
You are spying me through the window, Strolling in the lawn and humming a tune, But I am long
