woman-she is

Then there she is

ready to take a step with her beliefs,

wiped her tears with a fearful heart

like a phoenix she rose from her mottled scars.

She spirited away loneliness for she will grieve no more,

She twirled over her challenges for she will hide nor fold.

Her ebullient spirit ignited her passion,

heaved her sighs to a mad laugh,

peering over the horizon she tightened her locks.

There, she is ready for you

Oh world! Standing amidst

STRONGER than ever

Her unfettered spirit liberated

 when she became one with her mind, body and soul,

for she is proud to be born a woman.




As a lone traveller I stood on the beach

With the waves curling my feet

Sands giving away underneath

burying them deep.

The evening rays cast its warm light,

glistening my hidden tears from sight

 the inebriated wind swept away my locks,

revealing the scars of an epoch.

Whose fault was it?

The wind whispered, “your’s”

“for being born a woman”.

letting her go

                    Waves were lapping at our feet,

                     teasing my little one for a retreat.

                     She looks into my eyes,

                     Let me go, see the world that lies

                     beyond this horizon where the sun dips,

                     to feel and see what sinks,

                     But I held her tight with fear

                     And not let the world near.

                    Her curious small almond eyes

                    looked at me to let go

                    and I did it with a quivering smile.

what’s the rush?

            What’s the rush?

            Stop! Wait, look and listen,

            Break the shackles of this prison,

            Life is passing by

            What’s the rush?

           Take a moment to breathe,

           Savour the scent of life replete,

           Before life passes by

           What’s the rush?

            Hear her call you!

           Why is she so blue?

           A melancholic sight indeed

           Cause she just passed by.

for a nap

Holding his swaddled little body

brought the cherub face close to my bosom,

giving the sweet nectar of life from my pap

I yearned for a peaceful nap.

With heavy, sleep laden eyes,

sore nipples and crampy thighs,

unkempt hair, a frizzy sight,

I yearned for a nap at night.

And when I thought the angelic face,

had enough of my heavy breast,

the devil wailed, pulling me from my rest,

and all I yearned was, for a nap from the fest.