I lie on my back, flat
Blissfully ignorant of world
Gaze in the crystal clear blue
As it gazes back at me peacefully.
The velvet grass softer than carpet
Stretched under me,
Horizon to horizon
Its leaves tickling my cheek and arms.
The farthest horizons are decked
With snow capped high mountains
Looking up at the sky
Mist envelops them like white gown.
In the distance I see a home
Marble white and dazzling
For a second I feel a pang
A pang of envy towards its dwellers.
Then smile blows away the pang
I reach out to embrace what’s mine
The beauty of nature surrounding me
And close my eyes in happy remembrance.
I have not been updating this blog since ages. If you really like my work meet me in Wordpress :)
MESSAGEBOARD
This is the beginning of third year of an existence I never imagined I will be living- being financially dependent on someone.
I am absolutely at my patience’s end and am hundred percent sincere about trying any genuine free lance job on writing, that is I write and you pay, I am not keen to hit jackpot, fair payment will be fine enough for me.
I will like to clearly tell the robbers looking for fools to dupe to keep off – this one is too experienced to fall for your traps. I have tried for years to get a genuine, fair paying home-based job; the last time I was duped was in 2008 by a phony medical transcription institute, it gobbled up 30000 rupee and almost an years hard work, left me really sick in guts. Well, I am ready to take chances again but no longer being fooled. So, if any literary agent thinks that my works are worth it, I won’t mind sharing profits with him/ her; the percentage or fees for services will be negotiable. But please, don’t ask me to get a membership first, speak in trustworthy language. Or, any genuine publisher, publishing agency can gladly contact me, I will consider paying the fees if I think the offer isgenuine and reasonable.
You can check out my blogs to assess my writing and contact me.
My blogs are:
http://mydomainpvt.wordpress.com/
http://window2mysoul.wordpress.com/
http://sharmishthabasu.wordpress.com/
http://earthinbw.wordpress.com/
http://etherealheights.wordpress.com/
http://magicthought.wordpress.com/
http://mycybernovels.wordpress.com/
Along with my blog addresses I will love to add my writings which the MSN Reader’s archive has accepted and made me feel absolutely divine. They made me a writer, talented or not and gave me the best way of utilizing my spare time.
http://content.msn.co.in/MSNContribute/Userprofile.aspx?UserID=Y2Y2ZDZhNWUtNzBjYy00YjMzLWIwODMtZGExNGVkZjY5NGI5
http://content.msn.co.in/MSNContribute/Archive.aspx?Type=Author&Choice=Y2Y2ZDZhNWUtNzBjYy00YjMzLWIwODMtZGExNGVkZjY5NGI5
PLEASE KEEP IN MIND THAT I DONT HAVE ANY ACCOUNT ON FACEBOOK, ORKUT, SKYPE OR TWITTER. SO YOU WILL EITHER HAVE TO CONTACT ME THROUGH MY BLOGS OR WRITE ME EMAIL - MY EMAIL ID IS sharmishthabasu@live.in
Showing posts with label mist. Show all posts
Showing posts with label mist. Show all posts
Saturday, December 25, 2010
Sunday, November 28, 2010
gray mansion
a gray dark mansion
standing alone in mist
a desolate vision
slipped out of wist.
standing alone in mist
it rues about forgotten day
slipped out of wist
when it was happy and gay.
it rues about forgotten day
when sun shined birds sang
when it was happy and gay
people danced and sang.
when sun shined birds sang
life was pouring out of it
people danced and sang
as they moved in and round it
life was pouring out of it
back in those sunlit days
people danced and sang
it hears echoes of those days.
Sharmishtha basu
18.10.10
standing alone in mist
a desolate vision
slipped out of wist.
standing alone in mist
it rues about forgotten day
slipped out of wist
when it was happy and gay.
it rues about forgotten day
when sun shined birds sang
when it was happy and gay
people danced and sang.
when sun shined birds sang
life was pouring out of it
people danced and sang
as they moved in and round it
life was pouring out of it
back in those sunlit days
people danced and sang
it hears echoes of those days.
Sharmishtha basu
18.10.10
Labels:
dark,
desolate,
feelings,
gay,
gray,
happy days,
mansion,
mist,
pantoum,
people,
Poem,
poems,
poetries,
poetry,
sharmishtha (trisha) basu,
Sharmishtha Basu,
sunlit days,
thoughts,
writings
The train
They glide by
One after another
Huts and trees
Hills and valleys
Exhausted exhalation
Creates
a dreamy painting
Of milky white steam
As the giant
Rolls up chugging
To reach the top
its destiny.
Sharmishtha basu
16.09.10
.
One after another
Huts and trees
Hills and valleys
Exhausted exhalation
Creates
a dreamy painting
Of milky white steam
As the giant
Rolls up chugging
To reach the top
its destiny.
Sharmishtha basu
16.09.10
.
Crown of dawn
Burning crown
Of dawn
Pink reflection
Of her brow,
cheeks and lips
on the earth below
Crystal creek
sparkles in red,
Snowy peaks
burn in pink hue
White mist
Twirls her gown
To save its
Pearly glow
Sharmishtha basu
16.09.10
.
Of dawn
Pink reflection
Of her brow,
cheeks and lips
on the earth below
Crystal creek
sparkles in red,
Snowy peaks
burn in pink hue
White mist
Twirls her gown
To save its
Pearly glow
Sharmishtha basu
16.09.10
.
Sunday, July 4, 2010
flute player
He was wandering alone
Lost, tired, hungry in the woods
Its been weeks
Since he met another soul.
Early dawn, birds were singing
A divine choir for the sun.
lark he heard a sweeter sound
The mellow strain of a flute
He knew he was blessed by heaven
ran madly through the mist and fog
Stumbling, falling rising again
To seek out the flute player.
He ran past bushes
Crossed vales in path
hurried across
The singing brooks.
Then he saw her, a celestial maiden
Playing her flute to the sun
He dropped down to his knees before her,
She opened her eyes and looked at him.
He saw her silver wings fluttering
She Looked at him and smiled
Beckoned a village sleeping in valley
And disappeared in the milky white mist.
Lost, tired, hungry in the woods
Its been weeks
Since he met another soul.
Early dawn, birds were singing
A divine choir for the sun.
lark he heard a sweeter sound
The mellow strain of a flute
He knew he was blessed by heaven
ran madly through the mist and fog
Stumbling, falling rising again
To seek out the flute player.
He ran past bushes
Crossed vales in path
hurried across
The singing brooks.
Then he saw her, a celestial maiden
Playing her flute to the sun
He dropped down to his knees before her,
She opened her eyes and looked at him.
He saw her silver wings fluttering
She Looked at him and smiled
Beckoned a village sleeping in valley
And disappeared in the milky white mist.
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