#brightshadesbybidya

3 posts
  • love_whispererr 9w

    SOME MAZY FALLS OF THE ORANGE LEAF BLADES ON A POET'S CLAVICLE

    Wearing the diadem of
    white and yellow begonias
    the city swerves across
    the autumn's wreath ;
    and I, an austere cloister,
    standing near a porch
    holding a crystal goblet,
    daydreaming for the bloom of a verse.


    The courteous autumn
    ignores the sophists of raindrops
    but still carries the
    lustre of keen oblivion ;
    the virgin clouds of welkin,
    wave their white furs
    and I, a waggish banquet,
    waits for the excitable fall.


    Whoopee ! 'tis a poet,
    who waits for a starry night
    to infest his sonnets
    with portraiture of falls ;
    and I, a keen antichamber,
    where the metaphors wait
    to mount on the heavenward
    arbour of that unblended sonneteer.


    ~The poet's orange quill cuts a rug
    when the autumn chuckles
    near the suburb of similes.


    ©bidya || a poet who loves autumn's color

    (Fall- autumn)

    #wod #brightshadesbybidya #color

    Read More

    ˢᵒᵐᵉ ᵐᵃᶻʸ ᶠᵃˡˡˢ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ᵒʳᵃⁿᵍᵉ ˡᵉᵃᶠ ᵇˡᵃᵈᵉˢ ᵒⁿ ᵃ ᵖᵒᵉᵗ'ˢ ᶜˡᵃᵛⁱᶜˡᵉ

  • love_whispererr 10w

    ꜱᴀɴᴅᴄᴀꜱᴛʟᴇ, ꜱᴇᴀ ᴄʀᴀʙꜱ ᴀɴᴅ ꜱᴜɴꜱᴇᴛ


    4:36 pm
    I made a sandcastle near the womb of the azure sea with the youthful sands, infested colours and aloft hopes. Some yellow beams were embedding my heavenward castle but the flow tides were struggling to abut the drawbridge and to dismantle the portcullis before ebbing away. But they did fail terribly and I laughed hard while looking at those hopeless tides.


    5:01 pm
    Those beams of sunset were turning into orange like the feathers of a Baltimore Oriole. And then I found some sea crabs near the bailey of my castle. Some were golden and some were little red like the husk of some raspberries. They entered into the castle without opening the sliding gate. I became little upset but my guests were too cute and poetic to be ignored like those menaces and gordian chaos of reality. They appeared.. they disappeared ...they appeared.... And then they disappeared again before my not-so-excitable hospitality. But those flow tides were still struggling to kiss my castle.


    5:58 pm
    Those rays turned red without hurrying and I was becoming high on the metaphors to scribble about the overgrown sun and those fragments of sunset which were scattering on a corner of the sea and the seawater was no more looking blue. The water was looking red as someone threw the vermilion bottle of my mother on the stillness of water. Then I saw a golden crab near my castle. I chuckled and enjoyed the scenario with my swerved eyes and tipsy soul. Suddenly a flow tide came and tore down the battlements of the castle. I was standing near the paradox to scribble about that castle, sea crabs and sunset while personifying the arrow loops of a sandcastle.


    ©Bidya

    #personification #wod #brightshadesbybidya

    Read More

    ꜱᴀɴᴅᴄᴀꜱᴛʟᴇ, ꜱᴇᴀ ᴄʀᴀʙꜱ ᴀɴᴅ ꜱᴜɴꜱᴇᴛ

  • love_whispererr 11w

    WHEN THE SPITTING IMAGE GRINS


    Everynight, I open the
    box of my grandmother
    to wear her earrings
    and anklets secretly,
    and to feel the woman's
    beauty and grace
    on the pedestal of
    some slender reveries.


    I wear the earrings and
    look at the mirror
    while the youth of my
    grandmother waves to me,
    I feel shy when the long
    earrings abut my clavicle
    but a demure chuckle infests
    on my face with glee.


    I wear the vintage old
    anklet and its tinkling
    pervades inside the oblivion
    of my womanhood,
    and a breathless woman
    unclasps my soul
    to melt inside the arbour
    of umbrageous wood.


    The elegance I carry
    near the womenfolk
    and the blooms I commence
    with some peepers ;
    not that diffidence I hold,
    a dignity my breath follows
    not that timidity I restore,
    the strength I conclude.


    And standing behind
    the curtain of the room
    my father watches his late mother
    less through the jhumkas
    more through my hazel eyes
    less through the paayals
    more through my youthful smile

    And the spring chortles behind the scene.


    ~I was growing as a strong woman
    through the wedges of an overgrown sun.


    ©bidya

    #growth #wod #brightshadesbybidya

    Thank you so much @writersnetwork ��

    Read More

    ᴡʜᴇɴ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴘɪᴛᴛɪɴɢ ɪᴍᴀɢᴇ ɢʀɪɴꜱ