Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
ryn Feb 2015
He rubbed his weary eyes...
What trickery could this be?
Was it a signboard draped in disguise
Or the reflection of light off a tree?

Seconds ticked as he drew closer.
The lady materialised to rule out prior suspicions.
His fingers wrestled over the rusty brake lever,
Wheels squealed their futile objections.

The lady wore a face he could barely see...
She had long tresses that bore an alluring fragrance.
Her beauty tipped the scales allowing him bravery,
Unafraid he asked, "Miss, may I be of assistance?"

Her voice seemed to ride the subtle night breeze,
Coating his ears like sugar laden candy.
Soft and demure... Yet laced with a hint of tease,
She had said, "I'm stranded in the dark as you can see..."

"What luck!", he thought, seizing the opportunity
He removed his sack to make space for her.
His heart raced being in the damsel's good company,
The lady slid herself onto the rack before they both rode together.

As he pedalled hard, he felt a tap on his shoulder.
Her voice came again, a tender little whisper,
*"I live rather close... Not far off from here...
A little over the hill... Just over yonder..."
To be continued...

Based on a story I heard.
ryn Feb 2015
There once was a man
Whose livelihood was rubber.
He worked long and hard; and wore a tan,
He was a plantation tapper.

One night he packed,
In haste after a long day of toil.
Quickly had his belongings all sacked
Under light from a lantern that reeked of kerosene oil.

He was ready, flame from the lantern he did ****.
Overhead, the midnight moon brightly shone.
Bound his sack to the rack above the rear wheel,
Mounted his bicycle and soon he was gone.

The dirt trail leading back,
Undulating with gravel all strewn.
Almost treacherous this forgotten track
He only relied on light from the moon.

The air was cool just like any other,
But something was different about this night.
Squinting ahead he spotted a figure.
Flagging him down was a lady in white...
To be continued...

Based on a story I heard.
ryn Jan 2015
.
*wisdom
comes
from those who've
learnt,

lived

and were

burnt...
ryn Jan 2015
.
never
underestimate a

b            o  k             n
r                  e


heart,


that's what sets it
apart...
ryn Jan 2015
I can't write...
     I have a stash of twenty drafts, bearing a couple of lines each
I can't crack...
     Every draft seem to have developed a shell I can't breach
I can't gather...
     My thoughts so I could nurture these drafts to fruition
I can't think...
     The clatter in my head meant only to deafen
I can't fathom...
     What went right from what had gone completely awry
I can't find...
     Much needed sanity to let soar and fly
I can't cry...
     The tears I've beckoned for so very badly
I can't scream...
     Only muffled gurgles of notions drowned at sea
I can't see...
     The bigger picture...that consumed us both
I can't hear...
     Except for the dreaded voice of reason that I loathe
I can't piece...
     Together one decent little write

I can't breathe...
     I can't breathe...*I'm losing this fight
  Jan 2015 ryn
V
As you left me standing in the cold,
I started thinking about memories old.
They... Once made of gold
Now hold...
No value in my heart.
You have taken my heart apart.

I am but left...
To scramble for scattered remnants.
A vessel bereft,
Of its erstwhile tenants...

On my knees...
Picking up pieces with sombre gait.
Mind only sees...
An fallen dance with the ghosts of late.


As I begin with a clean slate,
I can't imagine so much hate.
For someone who I loved...
I try and push your memory away
But in the effort I sway.
It is too much to bear...
I'd give anything to hear...
Another I love you,
From you.
What happened when we were together
Our bond...
Was supposed to last forever,
But now it's just an echo of memories fond.

These young initial steps that I take...
Will eventually hasten in pace.
Leaving behind the scars that ache,
And embrace the new breeze that cradles my face.



Vardaan Nayar
**ryn
This poem was possible only becuase of the talent of my friend ryn...thanks a ton man
Next page