Halloween poem

Halloweeeeeeeeen poem

There was a ghost who loved to say Boo,
When he popped out from behind a shoe,
He lived on the porch ,with his friends, the orange pumpkin and the vampire,
As he hung by the wire,
Together they had a lot fun, scaring passersby  when the day was done,
They saw the neighbor set out the candy bowl,
And came up with a plan foul,
To steal all the candy,they sought,
But as they had this wicked thought,
The werewolf hooooowled into the eerie night,
And gave them all a real fright.

--shubha & v

P.S. I wrote this poem with and for my son about a neighbor's Halloween decorations . It was his idea that I set to rhyme and he claims it for his own. Sharing due credit...

Shedding Ego

Shedding Ego

Said the Lord, shed your ego, offer it to me,
Remove this blindfold of duality,
Let fall your desires, your pride, your sense of exclusivity,
Like in fall, the leaves, of the shedding tree,
And remember, as the drifting leaf , the tree,
The sky through the threadbare canopy,
All belongs in me.

--shubha

Diwali Greetings 2014

Wishing you a happy Diwali !!!

Pic credit: Google pics

The scent of longing

The scent of longing

Gathering dark clouds rumbled,
Threatening downpour,
Shed a few drops,
To titillate the earths' thirst
And release
The scent of her longing.

--shubha 

Defiant no more

Defiant no more

Often, when I passed a construction site,

I would stop and marvel at a inspiring sight,

A lone tree, in the middle, proud, tall, defiant

Against all of man's machine might,

I hoped that of felling, it had been spared,

When I saw it standing, swaying there,

But I could not fathom man's greedy scheme of the land,

Who could not find room, for even a sole tree, in his grand plans,

So today as I passed the site, my heart lurched at the sight

The empty expanse of the sky seemed to mourn its' plight,

And my heart crumpled at this knowledge,sore,

Cried for the fallen tree, defiant, no more.

--shubha

The best cake I ever ate

The best cake I ever ate


Outside the shop, I saw a street urchin, with hunger, shake

As he devoured with his eyes, the pink cupcake,

The one, that sat on the counter, covered by a fly shade,

The one, that mama, always forbade,


As for my mother I ran the errand,

Collected the fresh butter, bread, bun crescent,

Well that leaves a few pence, the kindly shopkeeper, said ,

Would like the toffee or the éclairs instead?


I shook my head, my decision made,

I would rather have the cupcake,

The shopkeeper surprised, gave his head a shake,

Still handed over the treat in a newspaper package


As I stepped out the shop,

I turned and made an abrupt stop,

Held out my little gift,

To the hungry boy, his spirits to lift,


He drew back a little wary,

Even as he grabbed the package, eagerly

Turned away to find a seat

Then I watched him eat,


With great tenderness he opened his treasure,

With greedy eyes, its’ size, did measure,

Then a pink tongue poked out, to lick, the icing, plum,

Relished each bite, until there wasn't even a crumb,


And although, I never knew, how the pink icing, did taste,

It was the best cake that I ever ate.




--shubha

Clear mountain streams

Clear mountain streams

What is that allure, of a clear mountain stream,

That the heart lifts, at the sight, of the river's nascent dream,

As she falls over boulders , rocks, in reckless abandon

Makes us stop,dangle toes,in the crystalline current,

Perhaps we do it in the hope, as freely she does, roam,

That we could carry away some of the magic, of her spirit,the magic, of her woodland home.

--shubha

Shallow puddles

Shallow puddles

In the cool of the morning, hopeful, whole
Returned, empty, hollow
This hole in my heart , too raw, just a muddy puddle, shallow,
Not deep enough to be a pond,to sustain fish, darting, bold , shy,
Not the crater, to hold a lake,that hides in its' bosom, a reflection ,a piece of the sky.

--shubha

Returning Home

Returning Home

Tell me O'wind, what messages you bring today,
As you whistle around my ears, on your merry way ?

Tell me the tales, of ocean mists, sprays, waves
Or what the gurgling mountain stream, really craves,

But mostly tell me, of my beloved, is she the same,
Does she ever turn to you and whisper my name?

Expecting return, the pathway lamp, does she,still light,
With her hands, then glass shield it from your playful delight?

Has all changed, or can the lost years of separation, still, be overcome?
Returning home, is there, still, a welcome?


--shubha