Step into to her world, a world where she lives,
Of colours a plenty and flavours many,
A flick of a hand, in measures she gives,
Spices that tantalise, worth every penny.
Red chillies an ounce, turmeric a pound,
Spices scarlet, yellow, in hues exotic,
Peppercorns, cardamoms, whole or ground,
Brown bay leaves, cinnamon, aromatic.
Wonders for the body that soothe and heal,
Nurturing from nature, a stoic promise,
From the choicest gardens, as senses reel,
Fragrance of flavours in sensual bliss.

Within her world, another world entices,
Her voice in sweet whispers has tales to tell,
Magic in dark eyes, the mistress of spices,
With a flick of her hand, she’ll cast a spell.

Written in 2013

( inspired by the title of the book by Chitra Divakaruni)

At one time
I would happily run out
and look up in the night skies
To catch a glimpse of the moon

Now, the moon is up there
Bright and beautiful.
But neither do I seek it
Nor do I see it.

I could say that life does that to you
But then, life is what you make it.
So, tomorrow, I will try to make life
Glow like the moon and the stars
Flow like a tinkling river
Blow gently like a summer breeze

But today I think I will let myself feel like late autumn.
Mellow, waiting for winter and snow.

Monday Tuesday
Wednesday Thursday
Friday Saturday Sunday
Each day
Life gets to you
And what should we do?
Get
Back
At
Life
Too

Dance while you still can
Let the music whisk you in the air
Let your arms be wings
Fly, sway and swing
Dance without a care

Dance while you still can
Do the shimmy, be your own star
Feel the rhythm and the beat
Let the notes tickle your feet
Spin like Mars, forever stellar

Dance while you still can
Beat the blues and the grays
On your own or hold a hand
Dance while you still can
Dance while the music still plays

Once I caught a teardrop, I put it to good use,
I sealed it in a bottle and sent it to my Muse,
She wrote a little song, heart broken and forlorn,
And from one tiny tear, my first verse was born.

Once I caught a frown, I put it to good use,
I crumpled it like paper and sent it to my muse.
She smoothened all the furrows, gave it back to me,
And from my petty anger, she gently set me free.

Once I caught a smile, I put it to good use,
I gave it little wings and sent it to my muse . .
With a twinkle in her eyes, I could hear her say,
With laughter in your heart, may you find your way.


Once I caught a thought, I put it to good use,
On my white winged horse, I flew right up to my Muse,
With a knowing smile, she held my eager hand,
She gave me a prayer, wisdom to understand.

And when, in gratitude, I thanked my feathered Muse,
She gave me a quill and said, ‘Put it to good use’.