Autumn song

And now for today’s prompt (optional, as always). Taking a cue from our video resource for the day, and from Keat’s poem, I’d like to challenge you to write a poem that:

Is specific to a season
Uses imagery that relates to all five senses (sight, sound, taste, touch, and smell)
Includes a rhetorical question, (like Keats’ “where are the songs of spring?”)

Autumn song

As the colours of fall drape large swathes of countryside,

The earth is decked up like a shy Indian bride

Reds, russets, oranges, yellows and golds

Adorn the beauteous earth, as langour unfolds

Pomegranates, cranberries, persimmons and pumpkins

Mmm soups, pies and delicious dumplings!

The trees graciously surrender what was theirs

Spreading a thick carpet of leaves on earth’s bosom bare

The silken petals of crocus and dahlia

Reminders of childhood, fill with notalgia

Gone are the greens; a summer boon,

As well as the clouded skies which darkened with monsoon

The cloudless skies are a brilliant blue,

The nights seem to have an inky hue.

The air is redolent with festive smells

There is an early morning nip that quickly dispels

The sheer curtain of mist hangs tantalizingly low

The sun obligingly tones down its glow

The call of migratory birds sounds so sweet

An aural and visual treat

Where art thou pretty bluethroat?

Avid bird watchers wait in areas remote

The harbinger of harsh winter is here to allure

Wait for a while, let me autumn savour.


And then there was light

Today’s prompt is to write a poem that, like is inspired by a reference book. Locate a dictionary, thesaurus, or encyclopedia, open it at random, and consider the two pages in front of you to be your inspirational playground for the day. Maybe a strange word will catch your eye, or perhaps the mishmash of information will provide you with the germ of a poem.

And then there was light

As advised, I have the book in front of me

close my eyes and turn pages randomly

I delayed this exercise as much as I could

now get on with it, I should

if the verse seems gossamer like

it is because my eyes landed on the word light

I can try to imbue extra incandescence

with heavy weight thoughts this instant

or make light of it

by being frivolous and flippant

luminosity or darkness are matter of optics

and whether or not it is photic

is light just opposite of darkness and heavy

or am I treating this subject with levity!

Chalk and cheese

We are as alike as chalk and cheese

oops! I mean as different as the above two

if I go north he wants to go south

so on and so forth

I am sure you get the drift

it’s not as if we are always at loggerheads

we share a lot of common interests too

when things get really heated between us

freshly brewed Darjeeling tea by him

is like oil over troubled waters

and thus peace is restored again.

The kite

I’d like to challenge you today to write a poem about an animal.

The kite

The heat was relentless

The children were restless

Tired of being cooped indoors

Glued to the window for a glimpse of outdoors

Their sudden shrieks shook me from slumber

It tore my feeble heart asunder

I heaved a sigh of relief on no sight of gore

Wordlessly they pointed and moved no more

I peered at the window and stepped back in fright

For sitting on the air conditioner was a huge kite!

It sat there motionless in all its tawny glory

Brought back to mind a vivid memory

In one fell swoop a kite had snatched my lunch

In grade four, when I was eating with my bunch

Since then I have nursed animosity

I warned my kids to curb their curiosity

I happily retreated into my cocoon

The kids wouldn’t move any soon!

They crouched fascinated near the window

With their elbows ensconced on the pillow

The kite sat still, nary a movement

The kids gazed, savouring the moment

Then they grew adventurous and bolder

Quietly swiped my phone for a picture

Went out quietly on the sly

But the kite was camera shy!

Then they switched on the TV

The kite fluttered down and watched beadily

‘ Ma come its dying! ‘ their voice was strangled!

The kite on the floor lay spread eagled

I brought a bowl of water and nudged it close

The kite lay oblivious, comatose

I splashed a mugful of cold water on it

And gingerly prodded the bird with a stick

It slowly turned its head and looked at me

I urged it to drink, my fear forgotten completely

It looked so harmless and worn out

‘ The heat has knocked it completely out’,

Remarked my husband over my shoulder

We moved inside our hearts heavier

‘ Ma its drinking water! ‘ came the little one’s squeak

The bowl was firmly tucked under the beak

I ventured close and poured more water

Could swear it seemed thankful for shelter

Finally it fluttered wings and turned a circle

And perched it self on little one’s bicycle

Then it opened its wingspan and let out a cry

Gathered steam and in a flash was up in the sky

Circled once over our balcony, no longer a husk,

Then disappeared in the gloaming dusk

‘ Will it come back? ‘ ask the kids forlornly

‘ It may ‘ I answer cautiously

I don’t want to raise their hopes

Nor dash them with my nopes

So every day we wait for our visitor

Who perhaps has forgotten this detour.

Happily ever after

The fort was no longer crumbling

nor did it wear the dilapidated look

the princess and the troll had had it restored

now it stood tall next to the gurgling brook

they had beget five healthy, strapping children

having been married for funfilled years fifteen

two each spitting copy of their parents

and one somewhere in between

every time they wanted to venture out

their father would utter a terse no

the kids had been barred from forays outside

for the fear of ridicule that would cause woe

but the princess was made of sterner stuff

she wanted her kids to bravely face the world
so she organised an open fort day

for them to meet people but remain unnerved

surprisingly most people barring a few

were accepting of kids and didn’t consider them queer

thus the princess, her troll and the kids

lived truly, happily ever after.

( this is the sequel to fairy tale and prequel to fairy tale)


Today, I’d like to challenge you to write a poem that engages with another art form – it might be about a friend of yours who paints or sculpts, your high school struggles with learning to play the French horn, or a wonderful painting, film, or piece of music you’ve experienced – anything is in bounds here, so long as it uses the poem to express something about another form of art.

(This poem is a tribute to a dear friend who is not only a singer, musician, songwriter but also a poet of repute.)


I shiver as the opening bars

caress my soul

raising goosebumps

right up to my heart

which forgets to beat

then the deep mellow voice

fills every corner of its being

making it beat again

in tandem with the

haunting sound of the fiddle

my sorrows, worries, cares melt away

as the song achingly sung about lost love

consumes me with its tenderness

transporting me

to hitherto unknown spaces

of wide green expanses and

snow covered peaks

there is rainfall in my heart

I open my damp eyes with a start

when the music stops

my drab life beckons again.