The Rusty Window

Against the bright pink walls Facing outside, Through the wooden framed window With the polished iron border I would wait, twinkling eyes Looking out to him Who would run home, His tiny satchel in his tiny hand And the smiling face My feelings only she could understand Who ,like me, has waited through the day… Continue reading The Rusty Window


Wind ( a poem )

The wind ran excitedly, Like an anxious young woman, Eager to share the secrets Which she heard the bushes whisper. Eager to share the tales Which she heard the mountains narrate. With the grand old trees Always pleasing, And sometimes annoying them With her chirpy chatters and endless musings. Love, ~Pramegha


Waiting for the Wave

Days went by, grew up They turned into months My quill remain alone With no verse spelled out No poem, no prose The blank pages horrified There was an uneasiness A lot was felt, a lot was felt But nothing put in words I yearned for the calmness That spreads through creation. But wisdom talked… Continue reading Waiting for the Wave