The Rising Moon

via Daily Prompt: Delivery

The Twilight is darkening…
Round, big and bright-
It rises up in the sky.

The moon spreads
Its silvery shadows
Over the lake, the clouds,
The trees and the meadows.

The midnight is descending…
Round, smaller but bright-
It finds its place in the sky

~KB

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Fence

Daily Post Prompt: Fence

I once met a man
He was a reciter of poetry
A teller of storiesimages

Dresses in a vest, and a plain shirt
His copper hair rests on his shoulders
He often spoke to your soul

I didn’t like him
He loved free air and open sky
I stayed in a closed room all my life

What did I do wrong?
You stay in a room to study
You work on a lonely bare desk for money

Then I saw his shoe so torn
And the fence around my mind
Lay on the ground undone

I left in a haste
Painted stars on the roof of my room
Put flowers on my desk and
Pictures of my husband as my groom
And I his bride.

Fence

Fingers

Writing 201: Poetry. Prompt – fingers. Form – prose poem. Device – Assonance.

FINGERS

It was just before midnight. I was reading Alice In Wonderland. My eyes felt like an elastic band stretched too long. I was putting my tab away when a reflection caught my eye. Shimmering on it’s black screen was the street light. Underneath which, stood a girl so still. Fear gripped my heart but as I turned she was gone. Eventhough, it was just a second, I believed she looked familiar and I knew I hadn’t seen her fingers.

Next day, her image was soaked in my thoughts.I stopped by the park. Bright and happy kids are my sunshine.

I stood up to leave when someone called for me. I turned around to see the girl. And just from where she had disappeared, my neighbour emerged. I fell back on the bench. A sheen of perspiration covered by face.

My first instinct was to rush back to home but there I would be alone. Lalita’s company seemed fine. There was nothing on my mind but the girl.

She was gossiping and telling me tales, of which only a few words fell on my ear.

” that’s a lovely ring..”, ” purple is..” ” careless parents”, “went missing”, ” my son…good friends”, ” loved that Alice book..”

“What?”

” You know the poor girl. She lived just next door.”

And soon I was on my way.Yeah, I knew that 14-yr-old. Beautiful. Shy. A purple ring always adorned her lovely hands.

At my gate, she was standing again. Battered clothes and head held low. The chiling quiet grew louder. As she raised her eyes, my fear eroded. A question leaped out of my mouth.

“What do you want?”

” You’ve my fingers. I want them back”

What Really Matters

Wriiting poetry 201. Day #3. Prompt: trust. Form: acrostic. Device: internal rhyming.

Truth be told, we can mold a new world.

Reason is blinded; our sights are clouded.

Unquestioningly, a burden we bear; of hatred, doubt, war and despair.

Stones of our hearts, can turn the still into ripples,

Trust no human, no sign maybe- trust compassion.

The Day Has Not End Yet

The day has not yet end
The tide has toughened
My will has resigned
But still…
Hope warms my heart

The day has not end yet
The river seems to be wide
Justifies my logical mind
But still…
Faith brightens my heart

The dark shadows turn into a whisper
But asks the conscience not to waver

Faith, hope and a voice within
It seems like..
May be the day has only begin

—Khadija Begum

Note: Kayla and Brian’s work has inspired this poem..
Do check it out
Brian –
Kayla – http://taylorkaylaj.blogspot.in/2014/06/trusting-wind.html?spref=fb

Feeling bleh ( v_v )

The world with all it's might
Is still sketchy and volatile

The mind with all it's power
Is still a cage and I  it's prisoner

If strength is what we need
We have got it indeed

Yet, as the days pass
I become lonelier
And the world gets messier