last leaf

cheers for choked up tears,
cries without list’ning ears.

cheers for wistful dreams
caught or lost in raging streams.

cheers for days of cavalier
where lone strength perseveres,

cheers for named fears
fin’lly found courage sears,

cheers for ‘nother year,
lost hope grows, reappears.

12.04.2018
©2018 Rosemawrites@A Reading Writer. All Rights Reserved.
Photo via Unsplash

For dVerse Quadrille #70: Poems of Good Cheer

soon, my love

Faint, fainter, faintest,
goes the winky cars
passing by.

Dark, darker, darkest,
goes the moonless
November sky.

Soft, softer, softest
goes the notes
of lullaby.

Sleepy, sleepier, sleepiest,
goes the tired city
whisp’ring goodbye.

Soon, sooner, soonest,
I’ll be near,
as another day dies.

11.06.2018
©2018 Rosemawrites@A Reading Writer. All Rights Reserved.
Photo via Unsplash

Written while listening to Sara Bareilles’ City as my heart yearns for my he.
For dVerse Quadrille Wink

 

time zones

High-pitched
giggles of sparrows
no longer echo
inside the cave
of my ears

before the kraa kraa
of your crows
disrupt your evening’s
fiction dreams.

Yet what a gift
that despite
our clock’s
different schemes

your early
and my early
daily meet
in between.

10.23.2018
©2018 Rosemawrites@A Reading Writer. All Rights Reserved.
Photo via Unsplash

For dVerse Quadrille 67— Early

l i m b o

Mechanical wings
wheeze up, up, up.
Rubber wheels
tiptoe, touch
clouds, up, up,

away from the safe
harbor of the
steady ground towards
the limbo of
oblivion, sometimes
with carpet of laughing

stars.

In between
galaxies and mortal
land, I’m here to meet

you.

08.25.2018
©2018 Rosemawrites@A Reading Writer. All Rights Reserved.
Photo via Unsplash

For dVerse Quadrille.

Damp Box

The box made of
thin tree-meat walls,
closed by a
curtain door,
sealed with
hole-filled, rusted
roof, again
sinks under the
merciless river
overflow, yet

the eight hearts
it has been carrying
will remain afloat—

with warm love,
with fearless faith,
with ceaseless hope.

08.14.2018
©2018 Rosemawrites@A Reading Writer. All Rights Reserved.
Photo via Unsplash

For dVerse Quadrille #62.
Please pray for flood victims in Kerala, India and in the Philippines (including me).

Fingers and Palms

Thin but brave bones
bending but seldom
or just sometimes breaking.
With muscles built
for exercise— gripping,
typing, or clenching.
The puzzle of fingers
and palms, I thought
need not completing.

Until my right had
felt your left—
oh, this is what
complete means.

07.31.2018
©2018 Rosemawrites@A Reading Writer. All Rights Reserved.
Photo via Unsplash

In response to dVerse Quadrille 61.

hatch

egg out of
your hard-outside,
fragile-inside,
self-made
shell of hate,

hardened by
society’s caging
cruel words
of unbelief.
crack the

calcium carbonate
crystal, with
each drumming of
your tired yet

unrelenting heart,
create a freeing hole
of hope. welcome
the sunrays of faith.

hatch.

03.27.2018
©2018 Rosemawrites@A Reading Writer. All Rights Reserved.
Photo via Unsplash

In response to dVerse Quadrille #53 – Egg

M o u n t a i n F a b r i c

imgpsh_fullsize

As the battered
wheels climb thousands
more feet above
the unending sea,
my mummed heart
undresses slowly.

My nakedness
embraces the
soft mountain fabric
made by murmurs of
the wind and leaves
of the giant
green guardians of
the endless Himalayas.

I am home.

02.13.2018
©2018 Rosemawrites@A Reading Writer. All Rights Reserved.
Photo via my dearest Shubhodeep Roy

In response to dVerse Quadrille #50 using the word “murmur”. This is inspired by my recent trip in India which touched my soul in a different level. 🙂 You can read more about it here.
dverse

for your information

kick me out
of your life
yes, you can.

kick me out
of my own love,
oh, you just can’t.

i am locked,
chained, tethered,
inside the cave
of my self-sufficient
heart.

it’ll beat
with a thump,
with a thump,
with you
or without.

11.07.2017
©2017 Rosemawrites@A Reading Writer. All Rights Reserved.
Photo via Unsplash

In response to dVerse Quadrille#44 by whimsygizmo.
dverse

when rain reigns

while i try
to rein on my
stubborn and elusive
sense of worth,

the rain reigns
against the sun rays
with its freed droplets
of crystals
kissing the waiting,
parched earth.

may i find
the purpose of my
birth, with the petrichor’s
coming mirth.

09.14.2017
©2017 Rosemawrites@A Reading Writer. All Rights Reserved.
Photo by Liv Bruce on Unsplash

In response to Quadrille #40 by whimsygizmo and Rein ’em in! lillian! (i hope i am not too late! :D)
dverse