Ode to my handmaiden

Pic my own

As tears unbidden from my poor eyes fall
I wipe them surreptitiously with your help
sobs, suppressed smiles, snot; you have seen ’em all
your wee bit does effortlessly emotions schlep
from covering heads to wiping sweat
from the Grecian times to the Victorian and the present
an integral part of dressing you have been
ne’er minding the grime or being wet
luxuriating being doused in a heady scent
often carrying billet-doux unseen!

O dear handkerchief, often your ends I have knotted
to not forget a knotty affair
and when I was foolishly besotted
I did drop you with discreet flair
sometimes it led to utterly dubious assumptions
sometimes I received the response I craved
sometimes you lay in oblivion in the dirt
I rescued you then with chicanery and gumption
my attempts at coquetry you valiantly braved
keeping you close to bosom helped whenever I was hurt

This generation knows only how to use and throw
upstart paper napkins and tissues scarce can take your place
they may be fancy and pricey and convenient on the go
your embroidered and laced appearance embodies class and grace
from being neatly tucked in my school uniform pocket
to your now delicately perfumed presence in my purse
dear handkerchief, I cannot tell you what you mean to me
whenever I leave home, you, I do not forget
through thick and thin and better and worse
you have been my companion, my best buddy.

Written for Eugi’s moonwashed weekly prompt and David’s W3 to Mich’s prompt to write an ode to our handkerchief.

Sharing at dVerse OLN.


Ode to dead ends

From Unsplash

It is time to hail the dead end
the closed doors and lack of opportunities
It is time to accept that a dead end often points to another path
sometimes more scenic and fulfilling than
the one you had set your heart on

detours; forced or voluntary
open windows into the unknown
it may  or may not happen serendipitously
but there is no accompanying drama
of thunderstorm, lightning or celestial prophecy
it happens unobtrusively,  quite quietly

pushed willy-nilly into teaching high schoolers
was like being thrown into the cage of a hungry lion
except that they were a bunch of forty antsy teenagers
and I, the object of their curiosity
I became the lion in the enclosure
to be watched and poked at

after those initial days of hiccups
we did grow together; the teacher and the taught
learning as I began teaching
being enriched while enriching lives
and the job that I never wanted
changed my life forever
and continues to define me even after I quit
enfolding me in a warm embrace of fuzziness

dead ends are not full stops; they are but semi colons
not glaring red but flickering  soft green
which you may miss if you blink
next time you are up against a wall
pause, don’t give up and look around
believe me you will find a chink.

Written for Sadje’s wdys, David’s W3 to Deepthy’s prompt and Eugi’s moonwashed weekly challenge.

Also sharing at dVerse OLN.

Ode to gooey indulgence (OctPoWriMo)

Day 12

Prompt: Ode to something you love

Form: Ode

Thou oozy overload of sweetness,
Thou sisterhood of deliciousness and lusciousness.
A mere gourmand can’t thus express,
A flowery tale more sweetly than my rhyme:
What perfect torus is thy shape;
No mortal, nor immortal can be immune to thy charms.
In the confectionery shops dotted across the worlde,
What p√Ętisserie chef worked magic with simple dough?
What piece of baked goody art thou?
What gustatory gratification you generate?

Eaten goodies are sweet but those uneaten,
Are sweeter; therefore ye sight for sore eyes, stay on;
I pray, play with my senses no more!
Sugar dressed beauty, I canst leave thee alone,
Thy allure is beyond compare!
How do I count the ways that I yearn for you?
Fathom no one can, the depth of my longing.
My bold lips yearn to kiss thy scrumptious skin
The untold bliss that you have coated my soul with;
Is unparalleled elsewhere in this universe!

Ah! Delirious do I feel as I bite into
The pillowy softness of perfection!
My eyes close on their own with ecstasy;
As a cavalcade of flavours dances on my tongue.
The unselfish gooey creaminess is something to die for!
I care not if death knocks at my door in this moment of indulgence.
Fie! I say to anyone who tries to warn me about your so called imperfections!
Jealousy is known drive man to unknown nadir;
I dare anyone to make perfidious or calumnious claims against you!
I worship the altar on which you sit queen like;
My day incomplete without a visit to my majesty,
Long live your exuberant voluptuousness!


(Inspired by Keats’ odes)