Lost Treasures

Apr 7, 2017

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When the evening sun shines red on the wall

the tropical summer calls.

and I see you leaning against the railing in gloom,
the windows and doors unbolted, thrown wide open.

The tropical summer calls.
trying to recall the last sung call of the tune.
With the taste of tamarind on my tongue
and the breath of salty sea in the lung
I rush to the shade of the austere home
where all the children still roam
with kites and balloons in the silvery sand
With the sun going down they rush back home
 from the sea where they saw the end of a day

where the last summer halted. With dust gathered on the soles of the shoes,

sand biting into the skin, shoe laces loose,

untidy, they come back and mess up the room, .

The walls still catch the reddening sun,
the days are forever, and are still on the run
as we make peace with time.

(c) Sushama Karnik



The image was shared by Hector Merced on G+

Originally shared by Hector Merced

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16 plus ones

16

The moonlight painted her white.

In the city which was shimmering
in the stream of neon lights,
she was a strange sight,
a fairy bewildered by the flashlight,
standing at a crossroads, and afraid to choose a road.
Ineffectual angel, always wasting time ;
out of the context, always at a wrong place and at a wrong time.
The moonlight painted her white ,
and the lamplight gave her a shadow.
And she was struggling to keep her wings
and to keep her feet on the ground.
The wings were a gift that had remained in wraps too long,
and the feet were sore from walking barefoot on the sand.
Now,she would fain exchange the wings for a pair of shoes.

Sushama Karnik (c)

Thanks @Milan Lakić for the image


Milan LakićTimeline

6 days ago

Night Wind, 2006 by Sally Storch (b. 1952)

I read the book of life and stopped at the page of love.

It was passion made of burnished gold.

I knew not when it began to burn and arose the vapour of light.

Out of the golden dust came the golden dove,

and as it spread its wings

it grew to take the shape of an eagle,

and the eagle's shadow spanned

the entire length of the book of love.

Thanks for the image: @Souheil Ghammachi

Souheil GhammachiTimeline

24 days ago

Give me books, French wine, fruit, fine weather and a little music played out of doors by somebody I do not know...
— John Keats

   
Have a pleasant weekend...

Mar 4, 2016

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An unseasonal rain
lasts for an hour.
Refreshed,
the sun returns.
Nothing has changed
except that the heart
looks around, amazed.
A dry stump of a palm tree
lifts its head from the ground
to reach the sky
carrying as it ascends,
the nest of a bird
whose fledglings
are about to spread their wings and fly.

file:///F:/Sushama%20Old%20Laptop/New%20folder/Desktop/(After%20painting%202016.pdf