Blue Waves

A burst of blue,

young fingers

sticky with pink

cotton candy…

 

Pa has taken

her to sea side.

Her first picnic

after, you know

that happening,

Pa has said not

to mention. So,

she rolls down

the car window.

A shaft of wind

freshen her eyes.

 

They search for clams

and shells of  sea.

Ancient lives.

A little red

shoe has come back

floating, ashore.

 

Still something is

missing. Pa won’t

tell about it.

But they both know

they are missing

her mother. Indeed. 

 

 

 

The old mill, Sudbury to V.Josephson‘s painting

 

Tired as he is, he will go on.

The destination is coming

nearer each time he defies

his fatigue. Aching feet tells to

take a bit of time beside the path,

under that summerful tree and

dream of his home, his own old mill

at Sudbury. His travels through

distant corners has gifted him

exotic colors in his dreams.

He can see the soft grass about

his house. The sound of red wheel pumping

water echoes. Fruits have been processed,

preserved and labeled. A slumber

has returned to its nest, in the eyes

of his mother. He can see the

mother’s hand printed china and

flowers brought by neighborhood girl.

Tired as he is he can dream

a thousand shades on those petals.

A bird is calling. This side of

consciousness or the other? He

wonders and still dreams.

The old mill, Sudbury, his own

home or is it just a painting!

 

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BIO: Born in the seventies and brought up in urban India with English as my second language, I happened to be a lawyer with an inclination for poetic justice. Writting poetry since my early days is my only "life". Have published through different sites and aspire to have my name on a cover of a book.

MOTIVATION: " Blue Waves" is based on the relashionship between two characters in absence of a third character( wife/ mother ). "The mill..." A painting, summer and a longing for a restful home