Mothers Day

I wish all the mothers, a blessed, happy, and healthy Mothers Day.


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I have tried three times to upload images from my iPhone. I am informed that it is publishing them, but there is nothing here. GAH!

Last week the rhododendrons were so beautiful and pink and spread around like a pink carpet. This week, they have turned pure white, with a suggestion of pink in the pistons and an occasional bud. You can seem below.

The lilacs assail me with their fragrance. So many bees around.
The white rhododendrons. Aren’t they so beautiful and so pristine in their appearance?
My dear cherry blossoms in the grass. Even in their languished state, they lend beauty.
I love this bush of azaleas. Each bloom has so many petals, layered one on top of each other, resembling a rose. All the other azaleas, the reds, and purples and the white (not shown) are just blooming like crazy. I have had these bushes for almost twenty years or more, and they just keep giving me joy, year after year.
This is a fairly new variety of Azaleas. It is double colored and looks really pretty.
The Gerber daisies add their own beauty. I love them.

Okay, that’s all for now. Enjoy my garden.

Please remember people in India in your prayers. I pray for them all the time. May this scourge be gone forever, and the world will be a happier and healthier place.

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SILENCE: A Random Poem (NPM)

It is way past sleep time.

Under these floors

Lie buried

Noises of the day;

So many locks

On so many thoughts

And on every lock

I feel the weight of

Stony silence.

This night could be saved

If I could hear just one sound

One small soft sound

Of your voice

A ‘hello,’

A ‘how are you?’ And

We could then save this night

From the madness of silence!©


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My restless mind
Invokes my Muse!
Lifeless lines
Acquiring a tongue
Nonspecific dots
Glowing in their blush.
Love gets tinged, and
Scenes of life erupt
As I turn the heart of darkness
Into a feast of lights!

This Muse,
Startles sleepy centuries
Sings about
Grandeur of earth!
Every age and generation
My Muse speaks to me
Tells me
I am the fate of earth and age
I am the child of times!!©


Cherry blossoms in the garden.


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Remember that night
When you took me for a ride
On your new motor bike?

Standing by the fields of sugar cane,
Licking the juice off my chin,
Holding my face in your hands, saying
Moonlight becomes you.

I had a dream last night.
Same fields of sugar cane.
Your smile inviting,
My long black hair flying as I ran
In the bright moonlight.

I saw me fall.
I looked up and you were gone.
I sobbed to see the stalks of sugar cane
Tall and lonely

One lonely tear shed in torment
Agonizing over each moment
As I dreamed once again of your face
And looked at the never-ending mirage.©


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NPM 13 A Mythical creature.

He rode a horse, that’s what I’ve read;
the head was that of a human, possibly a woman?

It had wings on the side of his body
and carried the holy man from Mecca

To Jerusalem and up to the heavens
all in one night, returning to find the bed

Still holding the warmth of his body!
Non- believers shun the idea, call it

Figment of imagination. ‘tis the difference
between a believer and a non-believer

about the Buraq and the Nigh Journey
of the man who rests now in Medina. ©

{Buraaq, was the name of the horse that took Prophet Mohamed to The Heavens, as described in the Holy Quran.)


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She told me to write a sestina.
I looked at her with my eyes wide open
“a sestina?” I asked.
“Surely you mean Siesta,” I told her.
She growled from her umbilicus,
and the growl went all the way up to her eyes.
‘Child’, she said; “you cannot be in this class
if you cannot write sestina!” she proclaimed
So, I went to the front of the class, and taking a chalk,
I wrote on the board,

I like to make lemonade when I am given lemons!! ©


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A Quatern.

I was awakened by din early this morn
I yawned and looked at the clock
the neighbor kept blowing the horn
my daughter entered the room in her new frock

I braided her thick hair
I was awakened by din early this morn
She wanted her new shoes to wear
Looking at her, I knew she had grown

when I said ‘no’, she looked so forlorn
She didn’t know the thick fog was icy and slick
I was awakened by din early this morn
she brushed my hugs, and that made me sick. ©


{{This was not easy for me. I am sure it doesn’t meet the rules of a Quatern Poem. But this is all I have.}}

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Slavery and Freedom (NPM #8)

Slavery and Freedom

White skin, standing tall on a frame
of pride, attitude and bias.

Black and brown skin, head bent
but spine straight, eyes steady and pious.

One, a salve, the other a the master
holding up the status of the better race

words, harsh and with twist of tongue
insults thrown in the face.

Aches of ages gone by come to roost, until
the bell tolls and lets the bent heads

Look up, smile at Benevolence
and the heart murmurs, “free at last!” ©


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