After a tiring week of never-ending emails and endless telphone calls, I needed quietness.
I walked to the beach to enjoy the cool sea breeze.
The day was luminous and beautiful.
As I face the sparkling, turqiose sea, the islands welcomed me.
Blue enamel and white fluffy clouds swathe the horizon.
It's so quiet...only the droning of the airplane at the far distance, then the dragon-fly wings, the lapping of the waves against the shore, the buzzing of the bee over my head and the pandanus leaves interrupt my reverie.
From some hidden spot in the grasses, a frog scolded the pilot for disturbing the peace.
Seagulls' called  from the far right; a chickadee chirped to my left.
A family of four sand ***** made an occassional dance, in search of food from where I sat.
A breathe of air stirred the palm trees and caused the fireweeds nearby to sway and shimmer.
The smell of seaweed was in the air. It was a fishy smell, a pungent, salty odour.
I felt the warmth of the scorching sun, despite the sheltering of the trees.
Here and there, fireweed seadpod split open, releasing the white soft cotton.
The sea breeze ruffled the water, I seemed to see a thousand silver -winged birds, dancing to their heart's content.

Hoping against hopes,
she lied down, her ear glued to
the pillow
for the music of crickets
from afar,
instead,
needles of loud roars
greeted her piercing her tympanum
she lied down convulsing
in excruciating pain.
She lied down on her back,
keeping eyes wide open,
hoping against hopes
for a beautiful verdant
landscape,
thick green forests,
vast paddy fields
sparkling
quietly, shyly flowing stream
each side lined-up with pandanus,
like a silver line,
dividing the sprawling fields.
Instead
she saw,
sky-rocketing concrete forests
all around,
a hazy metropolis,
smoke billowing out
into the atmosphere.
Aloud she cried,
aloud she burst out laughing
to reach her loved ones afar.
Her cries,
laughters,
all returned, ‘undelivered’.
Woke up from the bed
took two ****** tablets,
gulped them down,
and slumped in the cot.
Seconds ticked past
drowned in the ocean of slumper
she lay
followed by a chain of dreams
the cherished dreams of
crickets chirping
beautiful verdant landscape,
thick green forests,
quietly, shyly flowing,
sparkling stream,
resembling a village lass,
like a silver line,
dividing vast paddy fields,
children in ‘birthday suits’
diving into it
swimming along
disturbing the tranquility of the stream.
Everything she enjoyed
her heart full to the brim with joy and delight.
Life though not worth living
life certainly worth dreaming.