Poetry Corner

Flowers and wine, In a pretty arbour, Near the Peach bower listening to the music of waves and silence The modest Moon declines My offer of a taste of Finely brewed Peach wine Shyly smiling time to time from behind her fan, glides on the lake face Drink in hand, gazing at her elegance Bitterness descends upon me, all of a sudden

                    Winter rolls to Spring and, Clouds part for the Sun When days get harder  and fights break sphere,  When toddlers moan in hunger, And Patriots wail in agony,  When law turns astray  And all goes wrong, we last, Waiting... Waiting for light, Embers of hope  Yet where is the end, that glows with warmth?

There was a time, When I was up there, Whispering to the moon songs of silence, stories unheard Beget a ray of merry laughter in her pretty, shy face There was a time, When rays of gold fell upon my face, I smiled back greenly, shared a warm greeting There was a time, when I often ponder how it feels to be down there far flung, unsheltered yet, happy to be free at last Never did I imagine, a free, lone leaf to be beaten back, forth, hollow like a broken kite string Amidst a thousand wails, of my fellow fallen leaves, mine is nothing but a drop in the ocean Facing a death of silence, I couldn't but wonder There was a time When I used to be so naive.

I Am You Peering from behind, Rims of dark glasses Following my wandering gaze, Pools of dark brown Mocking, mimicking my silence Gulping a lungful of air, Enraged at her mocking In a flurry of dramatic grace Fiery hands pulling Strings of my heart Unknown danger, The stranger Feeling the solid nothingness Stretching our fingers closer Echoes down the hall, my gasp "Who Are You?..." I whisper "I Am You" She smiles.

  Flowers Bloom from Time to Time On a heyday morning, Silk robes afloat A Lady in White, Stands in a lull. Cherry lips drawing an arc, at blooming red Roses; Fondness blossomed In the depth of our gazes Sprouting it's tender bud, Yawning; Evoked a bright grin, Though no longer Akin a red Rose, Fading fiery red, Falling soft petals and a dried brown stem. Our withered affections, gone by recollections Holding on to a broken string...Am i the only one? Flowers Bloom from Time to Time But Why... You aren't here with me, A Lady in White, To begin anew... Aradhya Jayawardhane