gaayathri

You can't just give up.. Is that what a dinosaur would do?

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  • gaayathri 6w

    My beloved
    I wear you in my soul
    Like a dapple tattoo
    Only to get mutilated
    By the wrinkles of
    Relentless flow of time.
    .
    ©gaayathri

  • gaayathri 7w

    Archaic sturdy yews, doused in Welkin's
    Amber light, glitter the early flavins—
    While awoke the twittering swallows
    And marched out to the hollows.

    Clover blooms in the field
    And buzzing bees buckled afield.
    Busy housewife engulfed in toil
    And the ploughmen withdrew to the soil.

    Fervent lovers rambling secretly
    Midst the horde of Wild Cow Parsley
    And vows of Evermore they made
    And apace , homeward they fade.

    Oft did feast the crowded boulevard
    And hymns echoed from the yonder churchyard.
    Abandoned glebes, dark mysteries hold
    And wandering children ,ghost stories told.

    When twilight magnifies the crimson sky
    From yonder woods, roused dryad's cry
    Along the pathways, frost - zephyr sighs
    And the dark wintry night, frozen lies.

    While jovial laughter spread at the table
    The hearth burned with grandmother's fable
    Always mirthful is the Hamlet life
    Where happiness is found in infinite rife.

    ©gaayathri

    #pastoralpoem
    #wod

    16/10/2021

    @miraquill Thank you for EC❤️

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    The Hamlet

    ©gaayathri

  • gaayathri 11w

    a scintilla
    of something
    that I saw in his eyes,
    when we first met

    I'm still trying to
    decipher it.
    .
    ©gaayathri

  • gaayathri 11w

    21.09.2021

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    it grew in her soul like an untamed wildflower in a moonlit field
    .
    ©gaayathri

  • gaayathri 12w

    I wrote a fairytale
    drenched in hues and effervescent
    of a well - brewed Merlot
    And I killed the Prince, destroyed the realms
    in the name of a faux Duende.

    My muses had been befallen
    to a deep slumber many moons ago
    and left me to rot behind the drapery
    expecting a homecoming—
    Unpromised and Forlorn.

    When the leaves turn brown
    and tumble with a dreary rattle
    along the lonely expanse of my backyard
    I will remember you
    with a freezing quiver of last monsoon.

    When the music dies and
    everything settles down
    to where it belongs, I'll burn down
    all the memories of you
    and make myself warm.

    And when the fall is finally over,
    and before the begonias start to bloom
    I will leave my dolour
    next to your grave.

    © Gaayathri

    13/09/2021

    #start
    #wod
    #miss

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    ©gaayathri

  • gaayathri 16w

    My Little Cottage

    is cloistered,
    like an enchanted elfin grot,
    like a mythical covenstead—
    visible in the night of blood moon.

    is girdled by
    ivy-mantled high fences
    but you can peep through the aperture
    to see me, standing in the balcony.

    is lurid, like a haunted mansion
    but you can smell brew of lavender
    evaporating from my
    archaic teapot of ceramic hues.

    is quaint, it maybe rancid
    to your high modern senses,
    you may pity me to extremes
    but, darling, l live in profusion.

    ©gaayathri

    15/08/2021

    #simile
    #wod

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    My Little Cottage

    ©gaayathri

  • gaayathri 17w

    In Latin "Caelum" means heaven.

    #monostich
    #wod

    08/08/2021

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    While stitching my Caelum
    I didn't realize—
    The sand beneath my feet
    Was slipping away.
    .
    ©gaayathri

  • gaayathri 18w

    Lost and loitering
    in the middle of the infinite ocean
    her sail followed the wispy moonlit
    hoping a seaway homeward.

    Her outstretched trysail incised
    the dark smoke of murky clouds
    and she moved like a sozzled vagrant
    as the tempest took her helm.

    Unmoored and adrift in the sturdy combers
    with trembling mast and rigging
    she dreamed of sanguine auroras
    and mirthful pacific seashore.

    But her voyage had been stranded
    to the free will of death
    indrawing spume and brine
    to her cabin of grandeur.

    The lonely air echoed siren's madrigals
    and it dragged her to the deepest mansion
    while the helpless pirate ghosts
    vainly pulled their pistol trigger.

    © gaayathri

    #sail
    #wod
    maybe #patheticfallacy

    03/08/2021

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    Shipwreck

    Her sail followed the wispy moonlit
    Hoping a seaway homeward.
    .
    ©gaayathri

  • gaayathri 18w

    An arcadian symphony
    was dripping down
    through and through—
    the delicate cobbled street,
    sodden with rustling rain
    and whooshing wind—
    while You and I
    giggling under the rusty archway
    murmuring retro love songs
    and whispering wet kisses.

    ©gaayathri

    02/08/2021

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    An arcadian symphony
    was dripping down
    through and through—
    the delicate cobbled street,
    sodden with rustling rain
    and whooshing wind—
    while You and I
    giggling under the rusty archway
    murmuring retro love songs
    and whispering wet kisses.
    .
    ©gaayathri

  • gaayathri 20w

    Thyme — Time
    Thyme : a herb or mint

    A Salted— Assaulted

    Hole — Whole
    Hole : informal term for a difficult situation

    Peace — Piece

    Finely — Finally
    Finely : delicately, in tiny pieces

    Wine — Whine
    Whine : a long complaining cry.

    #pun
    #wod
    #miraquill Thank you so much for the Editor's Choice

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    pun at the dinner table

    at the table
    I failed again
    with my recipe stuck
    between swallow and spit
    my Thyme was wrong
    and the drink was
    A Salted.
    after my Hole song
    of pardon—
    only the glasses
    made it to Peace
    and the dinner
    Finely—
    ended up in Wine.
    .
    ©gaayathri