My poems

SOME PASSING THOUGHTS
As I sit here,
I remember,
The spring time’s rhapsody,
Petals of yester year,
Have gone away softly,
Some collecting dew drops,
Of those sorrowed moments,
Gazing skywards as I search,
Through the pages of my life’s work,
Lilting and pausing,
Memories of yet another dream,
Passing …………….yes! Hoping,
Not another nightmare it be,
Harmonious moments, though,
Only a few I’ve had,
Days many have dawned since,
Collections of sounds and smells,
Preserved; passionate and strong,
Loved ………………..Ah!
Now it’s all past.
Those long days lonely,
Dusk beautiful dusk,
As village children,
We once roamed,
These lovely roads,
Those winter fires,
Smoking leaves ………………
Snaking streams, terrains bare,
Together hand in hand,
Through the village ways,
A jolting shock,
I once received,
And realised, yeah!Who am I, but me.

OF THE FOUNDRY FURNACE

Beaming afar they shone,
The furnaces and the cupolas,
In the factory serene
With brightness of gold in the furnace
Where in their depth the splendour lay
Intense it feels with a fiery glow,
A short and tremulous motion, caused,
A fountain of sparks into the air,
Like light reflecting from particles of dust.

REMEMBRANCES

Flashing signs,
Neon lights,
A face in the dark,
Passing by,
Hues and shades,
Of red and black,
Appears……………
As a passing flash,
A mortal,
He sits and watches her,
A beautiful face,
Well lit,
Proud at heart,
Cares a damn,
Who is he?
But another man,
She pauses,
He gives a smile,
A scornful look,
She retaliates,
A minute later,
Reverberations………………,
Of an unheard slap


AMNESIA

Delve slowly on this un-trodden path,
Marshy, forgotten,
And slowly lost……………….
Shadows cast,
Faces drawn
Names dissolve,
In a smoky mist …………….
Then it feels as though,
All is lost.


REBIRTH

Through a valley silent there,
Flows a stream slow with care,
Sheep and goats graze in summer,
On meadows God’s once did create.
Magical they are and seem to be,
Music of the rushing streams,
Clouds moving on majestically,
Mountains stand tall and stand on by.
The stream pauses on reaching a cliff,
It turns and twists before a thought comes,
Finally leaves everything,
And is ready to plunge,
Down headlong to the rocks below,
Then takes a form entirely different