It’s Friday and time for my Guest Writer Spot, which gives writers the opportunity for their work to be seen and read by others. I accept stories, poems, articles – in fact, anything and everything. All you have to do is make sure your prose is no longer than 2000 words and your poems no more than 40 lines. If you would like some of your writing to be featured on my blog, please contact me here or by e-mail: email@example.com
This week, I’m pleased to welcome back Gopika N with another atmospheric poem:
Here’s a little bit about Gopika in the writer’s own words:
“Myself Gopika.N and I am from Kerala, the southern tip of the largest democracy in the world-India. I am, right now, 17 and am a science student. Though least interested in learning science, I am forced to complete the basic education. I have been writing short poems since my childhood. All the emotions brimming in me is reflected in most of my poems. Besides creating poems, I am also addicted to reading fiction as well as writing articles.”
A FEW WORDS
Walking through the deep dark woods,
Meadows underneath and starlit skies beyond.
Betwixt the twinkling stars, I found you
But then you did recede apace.
As I wandered all around,
Madly hunting your course,
You favored me with mere setbacks.
I lost my path as my quest for you thrived,
In the pervasive depths of the beryl
And in the ceaseless empyrean azure.
You fluttered but I never did perceive.
My endeavors to bag you were just futile.
Years fell of alike wilted leaves and melted crystals.
Soon did I skip your thoughts obtusely.
As I rushed behind your bogus glints,
Never once did I notice the radiant crescent,
Who waited thirstily amidst the burning pang.
In the long run, did I realize the flakes and freckles
Of your mind, muddled and baffled was I.
You lost your gleam, you lost your gallantry,
You were no more the blood stained words.
I walked solely in the memoirs of the great compatriot.
Tears did never spurt, my amour remained unsaid.
Still there was the crescent of beauty,
Waiting eagerly to express the final words of the beau.