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The doors, open
The home somewhat broken

By the stream
The poems we read

Missing from the home street
By the stream, meet

Read many, some new
Some you always knew

Time forsaken
Doors open, somewhat broken

Missing from the home street
Lost, maybe found

By the stream
The poems we read
Hp pages, latest  home front
Two rows of seeds
Gift wrapped in ***** of mud
Two I had planted in pots
In a month’s time, I remember
I plucked a few lady’s fingers
Lovely the produce
Soon they faded
Gardening and growing vegetables not my forte
Love plants, but tending to them and nurture
Not what I can do
So I further gift those seeds
Where they are nurtured and nourished
And the fruits and vegetables
Well produced
Inspired by a box of seeds which came in as a gift

Www.thebombaynaturalcompany.com

“Growing your own food is like printing your own money”

Inspiring words  :)
 Jul 2020 Sreeyaa
erin
what does it feel like to be held
not by another body
not by a set of limbs, a chest, a chin
but
by another soul

what does it feel like
to see truth in another pair of eyes
instead of hidden intentions
instead of absence

what does it feel like
to hear a familiar heartbeat
resounding next to your own
reaching through skin
through bone
two rhythms
indistinguishable

what does it feel like
to write poems about
a love that exists
The thoughts invisible
Invincible the cape of words
Now they haunt

Between keeping mum
And wanting to express
Lies the lies of quiet

Sometimes I write a lot
The Words, written
Sound better
Than the spoken

Strange is the world of words
Spoken and written
Both heard
All four set of words
Written at different times
Straight from the drafts

Puddles of joy
In the eyes of the little boy
Knew his favourite candy by the stick
Home deliveries, now real quick

Cleansing thoughts
In the word machine
Filigree of words
Wrought on the screen

The mountain tops covered in hues
Rainbow of flowers, on the plateau
White swans joined and prayed with folded heads
Grass turned green, the sky baby blue
The creator creates endless landscapes
 Jul 2020 Sreeyaa
writteninribon
her
 Jul 2020 Sreeyaa
writteninribon
her
the stars came from two things
one that comes from dust
and the other from her eyes
stars galaxies her love ph
He don't know what happened,
Can't express or tell why he feel burdened.
No one can make you feel good,
Life is not like bollywood.
People may come and go,
Don't rely upon someone's tableau.
All you have been alone from the beginning,
Think wisely while choosing.
He feel ending up sometimes,
The fact is he is not strong at times.
He is weak, he cry,
Society don't accept boys do cry.
Faked so much of smile,
That he hate compile.
Everything is going good in eyes of another,
Because they know only the actor.
What he suffers will be known,
That day will not be easy to bring back and only be left with condone.
He wishes everything to be fine,
But the situation don't come in align.

-sayfoodeverytime
Ribbons of rains
A translucent sheet
Papery streamers
Down the streets

Children dream
Of castles and moats
To sail their
white paper boats

Yesterday’s flowers
Colour the pathway
For every passerby
As they take a final bow
It’s raining here :)
7th July
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