If only we all could live in a happy bubble.
Where innocence, simplicity,
Laughter, frolic, and love
Were the only elements known to humanity.
Category: Poems
Sunday morning date with nature.
On a hot day I drink hot coffee
Summer Mornings
Morning ritual,
Wake up to the sounds of chirping birds.
Draw open the curtains.
Crash on the couch beside the window.
And soak up the warm rays of the sun.
I hear your voice calling me into the darkness of the night.
Longingly. Patiently.
I hurry down and see you waiting for me.
You reach your hand out for me to hold on to.
You look into my eyes and whisper,
Come, let’s fly.
Fly away into the wilderness of the night skies.
The Storm Broke
It was a pitch-dark starless night.
Rain pattered furiously on the streets,
The wind repeatedly rattled on my window screens.
I sat silently on the corner of the bed
With the sheets pulled close to my chest.
A tremendous flash of lightning
Cracked the sky in two,
Followed by a sharp thunderous boom
Sending shivers down my spine.
But, I listened to the violence of the storm all the while.
Frightened yet curiously amazed by the magnanimous power of the skies.
Sail Along
Life like the ocean
Days like insistent waves
Rise and fall tediously
Sometimes swirling and rolling
Sometimes slow and lazy
Sometimes just crazy
Thrashing over rocks furiously
So, like the waves
Sail along
With the rhythm of the sea.
Visualize
The stillness
of an old lone tree
by the sea.
On a full moon night.
Day Dream
Gazing absently outside the window.
Dreaming of friendly company.
To share this slow day with me.
How wonderful it would be,
To discuss about music, movies, and bumblebees,
While munching away on cookies,
Along with lots of pots of tea.
Tea Talk
I stir absently,
My rolling, boiling pot of tea.
A few more minutes of brewing
Will probably,
Give me the flavour that I so desperately need.
A few more minutes of brewing
Will leave behind lingering aromas
That are rich, earthy, and invigorating.
A strong, bitterly-sweet cup of black milky tea.
Is just what I need.
Let the Boat Row Slow
The wooden boat glided silently across the serene lake, passing through the misty air.
Floating plants drifted gently to the side making way for the boat to pass.
Old and mighty mountains stood still in the background reflecting golden morning light, glistening on the peaks.
He hummed softly in the boat so as not to disturb the quietness in the air.
Nuraine Sadaf 