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 Dec 2016 Evna-Luna
Valsa George
As I beheld a flower of rare beauty
In the silence choked heart of wilderness
The facsimile of a pretty woman came alive
From the coagulated heap of images

A woman…….! Isn’t she
God’s supreme handiwork
An animated form of chiseled art
A joy to behold
A figure of curvaceous ups and downs
God’s beautiful calligraphy
Her skin glowing as satin
Hands and fingers of creamy softness
Eyes reflecting love and gentleness
Voice musical and sweet
Moving with measured cadence
And walking with fluid ease
One who smoothens the rough edges of life
But Alas! A treasure rarely valued.

A loving daughter to her parents
An adorable mate to her man
A forgiving mother to all
The fountain spring of new life
The lovely mother to her children!

Though she is branded by many
As frail or fickle, infirm or impish
How empty is a man’s life
Who hasn’t known a woman,
Either as a mother, sister or daughter
Or a lover, companion or wife
This marvel of creation,
This miracle worthy of adulation!
In a world where women are discriminated, I feel proud to be a woman and believe that a woman is the light of her home ! I dedicate this poem to every woman big and small..... and affirm that her sacrifices are never wasted!
 Dec 2016 Evna-Luna
Valsa George
The chill of winter bites into the skin
And the valley sleeps in muffled din
In the freezing blustery winter night
The shivering trees stay huddled and tight

Stars have lined up in the sky
With cotton clouds swiftly sailing by
The moon light seeping through the veil
Makes the foliage glisten in the dale

Sharp noises sounding eerie
Leave the valley a place so scary
These sounds parley in a tongue unknown
Of gory tales, to none ever known

Did some cannibal tribe once congregate
In this nether territory to live segregate
What midnight revels had they held
No one knows and history remains cold

Now, here amid thickets and thorny shrubs
Where darkness, like a Fiend proudly struts
And in leaf fringed corners and crevices wide
Serpents coil with poisonous fangs in hide
    
Look, the sly fox walking stealthily away
After feeding greedily on his hapless prey,
Through the ravine and down the furrow
How he sneaks into his covert burrow

The glassy brook that mirrored the skies
Now in dark, under a thick blanket lies
But the water rushing through pebbles and rocks
With sonorous music, the nightly calm breaks

Among the branches of towering trees
Birds have perched and roost in peace
Little birdies with downy feathers
Cuddle under their mothers splayed wings

From far off woods comes a shrieking howl
As frightening as the hoots of a night owl
Wind, rushing through needle pines
Sounds like a child when he, in pain whines

Now the valley sleeps in muffled din
Until the Sun for his daily ritual parades in
In day light this valley would be up and awake
And life for sure will a renewed turn take
 Dec 2016 Evna-Luna
Valsa George
Secure within the mother’s womb.
Sheltered from all storms of life.
Swimming,
Swiveling,
and
Sustained.

The countdown begun-

A wide world awaiting,
Eager faces looking,
Windows opening,

to
Colour,
Scent,
Sound,
Taste and Touch.

But,
Expectations shattered,
Exasperation heightened,
Execution begun,
Excruciation settled,
and
Expulsion confirmed!

Chopped to pieces,
Down to trash.
‘The most unkindest cut of all’!

Betrayal!
Horrid Betrayal!

Through eons,
History repeats.
‘Am I my brother’s keeper’?
The Son of Man –
sold out,
with a kiss.
Et tu, Brute!
Nipped in the bud.... ! How many such cries die out unheard !!!
When a mother's womb turns the slaughter house, it is the bitterest betrayal !!
 Dec 2016 Evna-Luna
Valsa George
A cool December morning!
Today I rose much earlier than usual
I watch the night stealing away
Like an accused convict under cover

Sunlight peeks through the leaves.
In the haze of overhanging mist,
Only the blurred silhouette of trees in sight
The crows have begun their raucous call

The leaves of grass are misted with dew
A cool zephyr blows from the south
Clouds float like shredded cotton
Even Sirius, the brightest star has paled

Life is slowly beginning to unfold
And men like shadows have begun to move
The sun has now climbed to the Eastern hills
In scintillating glory like a mighty king

Shattering the mist with his lance like beams
He exults like a victorious warrior
His crystal rays rouse the sleeping birds
And they begin their chorus in wondrous rhyme

I enjoy the sweetness of this lovely morn
In serene silence, I stand and watch
The light that slowly fills the Earth,
Dispelling all trace of overhanging darkness!
Unlike the Winter of the West, here in most parts of India it is very mild and sweetly pleasant with clear blue skies, bright sun and cool mornings and evenings. This is the best time of the year, here in the place where I live. The morning air carries the scent of opening flowers, so refreshing and giving an exotic feel !
 Dec 2016 Evna-Luna
Ovi-Odiete
We stand tall, yet so low
above our fears, below our doubts;
we can see through thick
and so we hope so bold
but that is as far as it goes
here we are, hands tied;
we cannot move far
and so we shout for us
to be free

In the grave of dreams,
are hopes shattered, and joy
turned sour
lights turned darkness;
shadows encamping our hopes
all that we ever longed for,
but could never accomplish
all the days of glory,
now a shadowing story

Let us be loose, we pray
take us out of this cage
break all these bars of rage
let us claim the roaring sea,
and name its depths our own.
From the grave of dreams,
I see the sky
but cannot claim it
and so I dare to fight the walls

From the grave of dreams
comes a thousand wishes.
In our helpless and tormented state,
we still seek for freedom
shouting through these scars of rage;
hoping through the chains of siege
praying with all tongues of flames,
but that is as far as it goes;
here we are, hands tied

We look to the world all known,
and wish for the thrills unknown;
though scared of the things unseen,
still wishing for them all
for a song to let us loose,
and a call to give us hope;
for we are locked within walls,
all we do is to dream of dreams
and so painful we never attained them.

Ovi Odiete©

Written 2014

*first published 2014 on poemhunter
So many dreams are shattered in the grave of dreams,
So many wishes never accomplished.
So many years lost within time

'In the grave of dreams, I am restricted within walls so all I do is scream to be heard in the distant hills'
 Dec 2016 Evna-Luna
Anne Curtin
My five years with my Dad
   His last five years with me

Slipping Cori's wedding ring on her finger
   In front of our crowded church

Purple t-shirt faded and misshapen by washing
   My safety and freedom color

Kneading bread with Grandma
     Untill the stickiness was gone

1947 edition of John Keats poetry
           Broken binding and old book smell

Silver dollar minted in 1922
           The year my mother was born

Singing in church choir
               My name sewn into my robe

Collection of small ceramic birds
From trips and birthdays

Waiting in line to vote for Hillary
Grandma is smiling
Jealousy is a curse,
There's no curse
that is worse.

Lying is a disease,
There's no cure -
This, I'm sure!

By Lady R.F ©2016
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