realist was gone for a while,
replaced by a stranger, wildly
fanatical tapping at growing
moss at her feet, reminiscing
forgotten events- drowsily so .
tired to core, crumples with thud
on hard ground- distorted image
as if engraved on vellum. drastic
measures frantically needed to get
her back on track of normal life.
“every so often, all one needs is rest-
along with books of fiction on bedside”
20 comments:
Hi Gautami,
Nice post. Like the way you write! :D
Really good work, Gautami! I think everyone should slow down sometimes. Thanks for sharing your poem. Have a nice day.
nice, very nice!
((((Gautami))))
We're going away for the weekend. Need some of that rest and reading. ;)
I empathize. Nicely done as usual.
For sure. Resting is a good thing!
Ah, rest! I remember that! Excellent as ever.
As always, I like the flow and lyricism of this. I feel like I'm missing something, though, not sure I understand what's going on. I think I know, but I'm not at all sure.
In any case, I like it more each time I read it.
It's always like to get lost in someone else's life even if it's fiction.
And as they say
"The rest is history!"
that was terrific...you got me at the first line....thank you
Realist schmealist!
Reality sucks, but truth will always be stranger than fiction and apparently it will set you free.
the 4 guttenberg bible's were written on vellum...jst did some wiki.
yes, I need rest, too. :)
I apologize that it took me so long to reutrn the visit to your blog.
This poem is very true. My doctor believes that every person should take a one-two week annual vacation that consists of nothing but sleep, food, and books. :)
having spent the last few days relaxing and reading... i have to agree... wonderfully done....
yes, sometimes all we need is fiction by the bed-side..this was beautiful take for both prompts. Thank you.
That was really good!
Hi Gautami! I love the voice in this wonderful poem. The first 2 lines took me in immediately, and yes to the books of fiction on the bedside!
:)
Your poem reminds me of the saying that a rolling stone gathers no moss-
the character in the poem seems so restless that she was forced to slow down and rest.
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