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Valsa George May 2016
With the peak of spring in the month of May
In the early hours of a pleasantly sunlit day
Two kids sat cuddled on a swing
Feeling as though they were taking on wing

Swinging in the air, they began to sing
Their sweet lay breaking the silence with its ring
They kicked their legs in rising delight
And felt like thistledowns ever so light

Up and down on the swing was fun
They closed their eyes on being face to face with the sun
Felt the swish and sway of the buoyant air
And knew the light tug of breeze on their curly hair

As the air got caught in the frills of their frock
Their eyes gleamed bright in delightful spark
Imagining themselves to be astronauts in space,
An ebullient excitement lit up their face

From a raised angle, they saw the Earth in green folds lie
Watched the surrounding hills standing awfully high
Saw a small stream flowing as a slow moving train
With trees lined up on its banks in unbroken chain

Longingly I watched these children free of all worry and pain
Also their aerial feats, not tainted by any melancholy stain
How I miss these childhood days of innocent fun
As my hours, towards the sunset, quickly run
I envy little children and their care free days......! They leave me immensely nostalgic as I had a joyous childhood in a large happy family !
.
One day at a time
swings the pendulum;
only love awakens senses
too ephemeral to be restrained,
like the magic of a phonograph stylus
in a vintage vinyl groove
and the sensual touch
      of skin so new

It's not easy to watch
a flock flying away
      in the distance,
seeing the expanse beyond
reach of a wandering mind;

      heed distracted
      by the slow sway
of the treetops hypnotic careen

Doves dive on feathered canter,
      silent as the winged wind,
broke free from the gravity
      befallen the weight
            of the world
                                                
      Look­ing up wondering
            beyond the sky,
         the passing clouds
            crawl across
palliating the dusk hazed horizon

Synchronicity transcends across
an immeasurably deep river chasm,
      into a wordless abyss
      ensconced unthought
              between
        here and there

Silent silhouettes
            glide across
      the valley void below,
            wings to the sky

and, if you listen to a moment breathe,
            you can hear
                  the silent peace .............

you can feel the prevailing wind's direction
            blowing through your soul



             Jesse Stillwater
            December 2017
Shofi Ahmed Jul 26
Dancing the billow in the sea
the cool one will show up
deep down from the deep
with the flute on the lips.

Listening to the flute on play
chorus clouds bang out
floating by the river blue
down the sky they sing.

Ambling with the wonder light
the sun draws in
from the secret valley
as if the punter in the sky
knew it, knows the flutist
rose from down the sea!

There is no stop in the solar disc.
Twirling around the inner music
every orb, every planet is a bee.

The waning and waxing Moon
in silhouette and at half-light
swings over the sea.

It’s all start from the ground
it was from our sea waterfront
Him the sweetheart in the midst
floated the leading light the bumblebee.
All the stars bubble in the galaxy
they know this ancient story!

Since then the brightest bulb
the sun in the solar ring  
leads the bunch’s mindful
butterfly dance on the way home.
Following the never-ending music
of the pre-design command ‘qun’ be!
Stu Harley Sep 9
if
night
swings
her
door
wide open
So
where
we
can peep
into
the
shores of heaven
CK Baker Feb 2017
late night by the holland sill
white framed and frilled
alongside the meadow
down by the grand
where cat fish
and cow pies
and silly yellow bees
make their stay

there’s swings now
and an empty barn
with quiet corners
and broken walls
echoing chambers
that speak to the past
...and little dogs
not big ones

the plaster cracks
and wheat sways
from the warm west wind
it’s about time
for that late afternoon pour
you know how it cleans the soul
old percy would say

and flanders
the holder of those pigs
who fed us good
with sow and milk
as we plowed the
dusty fields
into the
hot summer sun

i can still hear the screams
of river dreams
the grand slams
and flints run dry
the barks
and breaks
and bends
a world past
with forbes
and dolls
and crab apple trees

think i’ll take a trip
up the back lane
they’ve cut the brush
and opened the line
Gul e Dawoodi Jan 2015
She loves to watch sunsets ,
Because of the feeling she gets,
She burns inside and sheds tear,
Just like a candle when it melts ,
She is afraid of what life brings,
And how one's fate swings,
She is afraid to fall for someone,
Who might treat her like 'no one' ,
She is afraid to lose their trust ,
Who do for her; their best.
Well...I just tried to write something different from my previous writes. e.e
Miss Saitwal Jul 23
That workaholic lady who's always on call
& keep up with the market cells,
That newly married lady with chunky "red bangles"
talking to her husband with both earphones and blush on.

That man with a big fat stomach filled with his wife's love;
That teen who is on the edge of being deaf
because he can't do without the earphones.

That struggler who always stands at the back door;
That dreamer who's lost looking outside the window;
That person who's scared to get lost so stay active on the maps;
That disturbed mind who is coping up listening to George Michael;
That overworked soul who can crash anywhere.

That lady who choose to sit and freeze to death under a broken A/C unit, rather than stand with a five kilo backpack in a crowded jungle.
That girl who eats like a thief by hiding her food in the bag;
That tall enthusiastic freak who swings
and does gymnastics in a moving bus.

That granny who spot more trends than teens and follows them;
That old man who still can't keep up with the uneven roads
and the confused climate of Bombay.

That teen who lives with/on an Ipod,
instead of the 90s kids who survived on colouring books;
Those kids who believe their job is to fill the voids in the still crowd by surpassing like electrons to the magnetic field.

That man who is inspired by Raju Rastogi from 3 Idiots,
chanting to death and can't stop stressing on his responsibilities;
That entrepreneur with a head held high and red lipstick,
who never believes in a 9 to 5 corporate "mistake",

That blogger who can't think offline and is born to shine on the Gram,
That man who switches from Linkedln to South Indian action movie when the masses exit.
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