woodsorrels

A part of all that I have met ;_;;_

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  • woodsorrels 1w

    Window Side

    My space is a dump yard
    For some thin memories,
    The minutes in making and
    The episodes that I wail
    And whimper in between
    Usually, I keep hunching
    Like a couch potato
    The broad day in my bed
    Yet at times I clutch and
    Cling to the window side
    To someone living by mounts
    Uncovering charm in anything and
    Everything is not laborious
    Rather I keep catching baby's-breaths
    Flickering at the horizon of breeze
    And basil stems of love tucked
    To the wrinkle of his work trousers
    Although it comes across the
    Whole room is a vantage point
    Still, I prefer to pin and process
    By the window side only
    Gawking wilderness
    Through the gooseberry dews
    And misty telephone booths
    I see snow romping with the sky
    Beneath the lampposts
    The morning light endows me
    With uniting stripes of sunrise
    And some flying-birds scenes
    The day makes laws with
    Sunshine standing at my head
    Afternoons fetch the
    Bright bluer skies and the
    Surprising rains and rainbows
    Even the nights save me a
    Star-studded gaze with the moon
    Between eleven Russian poplars
    But one thing I disfavour
    And I wish I could introduce
    To the place is to plug my
    Evenings with sunset sceneries
    For the place breathes
    Contrary to where sun sets

    woodsorrels_

  • woodsorrels 2w

    NOvember

    Roosting on an unclad pear tree branch
    With a mistle thrush and dust of leaves
    Hissing cold winds to the huts and hills
    With pot-au-feu, pumpkins and peonies

    /November; the sheet of cobble crust/

    woodsorrels_

  • woodsorrels 2w

    Moon-Light

    She wears the moonlight
    And mistletoes on her skin
    Her bones tell tales of spire

    He's calm like twilight
    Silken and smooth like a star
    Twinkling in face of moonlight

    woodsorrels_

  • woodsorrels 2w

    Questions

    Some questions don't have answers
    They are complete within a question mark;
    they are complete without a full stop
    needed to complete them

    woodsorrels_

  • woodsorrels 3w

    Blue are my eyes
    The skies above your head
    And clouds over the horizon
    Bell-flowers hoping to breeze
    Love-in-a-mist and the
    Forget-me-nots shaking hands
    The face of the new year moon
    And the oceans beneath
    And the waves spurting within
    Blue is my Father's
    First office t-shirt and
    My mother's prayer mat
    The kerchief I wear for the night
    And the denim pants my aunt
    Got me from another city
    Blue are the lagoons
    The butterfly pea flower tea
    And the blue curçao
    The blueberry crème buns
    And the lavender and
    Seafoam shell scented candles
    Old turquoise and lapis lazuli
    Locket of my grandmother
    Blue are the gas flames and
    The cobalt beach glass pebbles
    Blue are the blue pansy butterflies
    Bouncing in the backyard
    And the lucky feather pendant
    Swivelling in my room
    Blues are the balloons and crayons
    Umbrellas and my monsoon shoes
    The bluebirds and the cerulean taxis
    Blue is a rose of benevolence
    An explicit welcome note
    And a true-blue goodbye letter

    woodsorrels_

    #color #wod #writersnetwork #miraquill

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    Hyacinth House

    Blue are the aegan vintage doors, the flowers
    over the zaffre fences, balls of wool, the mountains
    in winter, the sky between the street lamps and
    telegram poles and the peacock dust jacket
    of my favourite book

    -wds

  • woodsorrels 3w

    SKINNY

    Her soul speaks poetry
    In
    Flowers
    And
    Baskets
    In
    Moonlight
    And
    Rainstorms
    In
    Poetry her soul speaks

    What I want
    Are
    Poems
    And
    Paintings
    Are
    Prayers
    And
    Promises
    Are
    What I want

    I dream of coffee and cigarettes
    Of
    Love
    And
    Thunder
    Of
    Drugs
    And
    Pain
    Of
    Coffee and cigarettes I dream of

    He wears tee and ripped jeans
    With
    Whiskers
    And
    Beard
    With
    Frown
    And
    Half-smile
    With
    Ripped jeans and tee he wears

    woodsorrels_

  • woodsorrels 3w

    Grandma's Pocket

    What's in my Grandma's pocket?

    She's wearing a
    Medallion pannier skirt
    Showed in butterscotch dots
    And daffodil stalks
    With two pockets
    Stationed sideways
    As I see closely into one pocket
    There are tiny gemstones
    Some grains of sand
    Hook of her spectacles
    And a 2 rupee rusty coin
    The other pocket carries
    A half-beaded pendant
    Wrinkled passport-size
    Photograph of Grandpa
    Few fenugreek seeds
    And the keys of pantry

    woodsorrels_

  • woodsorrels 4w

    I am like a dream
    And my destiny is
    At the fingertips of the sky
    I am the love affair of the
    Clouds and stars
    I often wobble alone
    Dancing like a goddess
    While on some days I pull the
    Sun along, for the happiness
    Winking at your window
    In the face of a rainbow
    I don't wear the sandals
    As my home keeps changing
    Somedays downward the West
    I cruise with sunset in the
    Cities of skyscrapers
    And somedays I roll through
    The mountains in the East
    To surge with the sunrise
    I am the pillow to your
    Lonely nights and a shoulder
    On days when you need
    Someone to be around
    I am a fantasy to poets
    Their letters revolve 'round
    My waistline and the lovers
    Paint romance on my lips
    I befriend the naked turnpikes,
    Disavowed houses and
    The stray woods in the skin
    Of ferns and flowers
    I am the melody to your
    Morning coffee and the
    Peace to your midnight book
    I reek of the sepia staircases,
    Empty mugs of bitter café noir
    The 3 am dark academia with Hozier
    To drink all your sorrows away
    I depart stories on the tails
    Of birds and the mute awnings,
    Between the armpits of trees,
    At glass panes of relaxed
    Vehicles and blow kisses in the
    Mouth of death on bloomed graves
    And to the breath of life in soft tears
    I bring back the old memories
    And back you to make new ones
    Paper boats float in my springs
    Damselflies dance to my beat
    I fall on your head and
    Hide under your feet

    woodsorrels_

    THANK YOU VERY MUCH ♡ @writersnetwork

    #weather #wod #writersnetwork #miraquill

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    RAINn

    I keep on jumping till the pole wires become bulky,
    traffic lights get blurred and the windshield turns
    blind. The city stops and the world saves a moment.

    -wds

  • woodsorrels 4w

    Book Of Life

    A sigh saved in skies
    Running like oceans, turning like trees
    Life is a walking story

    woodsorrels_

  • woodsorrels 4w

    Festive Season

    The early snow has flown its
    Porcelains to the undyed skies
    And the sudden sun taking its
    Head out of shadowy clouds
    Wakes up the apricity
    Tickling the feelings
    Like a soft rainy kiss
    And hugging the shoulders
    Like cosy winter fur-coats
    It's the first Friday of the new month
    And I can hear the bells jangling
    In an intimate church
    Walkways are done up
    With sandy lanterns
    And the riverside sings
    To the colly and yaffle birds
    Mailboxes are spruced up
    With the holiday swags
    Fireplaces adorned in
    Pistachio garlands and paperwhites
    An olive wreath tailored
    In a cherry green coloured ribbon
    Rested over the mantel
    Mistletoe candles sparkling
    On the coffee table in the living room
    For the hope and light
    Of the arriving new year
    Houses are sketched in a
    New colour scheme,
    Of fossil tinge and golden green
    Pull-ins and barrooms
    Run through the wide night
    Studios are closed
    and schools off to sleep
    Women spend days 'round
    The stews and casseroles
    Men with the sombreros
    Busy in baking quiches and souffles
    And children squat outside hours
    Eagerly waiting for the
    Gifts and goodies
    From sharing moments
    To making memories
    The festive season is a
    Season of togetherness

    woodsorrels_