Writer
Day 54
A strong hush of wind came blowing upon.
Instinctively the hand covered the eyes.
Pushing aside the tresses.
With worried freckles.
Looking around for shelter.
‘Like a scenic plot in a book’ –
Was standing a straw hut close by.
Walking towards it, holding up,
the large red gown with both hands.
Upon entering found an old maiden
She looked disinterestedly and nodded.
The rest of the night was spent there.
Day 53
There is something about mornings.
A fresh dampness in the air,
Calm, undisturbed terrain.
Light grey clouded skies.
Soft breeze rustling the leaves.
and birds chirping from afar.
The undisturbed innocence of the morning mind
Helps in appreciating these little things of life.
Day 48
It was the first snowfall of the year.
The ground had turned white.
I looked out of the window,
Watched people walking by,
Wearing woollen caps and gloves.
I went out to feel the coldness in the air.
I picked some snow off the ground, made a ball of it in my hand
and watched it melt away.
Day 47
Crafting words in the mind’s eye.
It’s a persistent process.
Jumbled ideas pounce around.
Need to go grabbing and gathering.
Putting it all together right.
Writing is like..
A game or a piece of art,
or more like a..
Reflection of who you are.
Day 46
Finally, it’s time to sleep!
I want to bury my face
In soft fluffy pillows
Go deep inside layers of blankets.
and fall asleep dreaming about
oceans and meadows.
Day 44
Intimidating pressures of the world,
Tire the innocence of the soul.
Uninterrupted flow of thoughts,
Disturb the calmness of the mind.
Looking up at the sky,
Seeking for simplicity of life.
Day 42
It was time to bid goodbye.
In a hurry,
Came her last few words.
All she wanted to say was,
“Hold me tight, please don’t let me go.”
But all she said was,
“Okay bye, I need to go.”
Day 41
Day 40
I love him dearly.
In the depths of his eyes,
A sea of knowledge and an emotion of kindness.
His praises for Chardonnay spilled with delight.
History, books and literature were all he desired.
I looked at him longingly and gave him all my attention.
Not once did I miss his classes of European Literature.
He always smiled at me and my heart fluttered with joy.
But he looked at me like he looked at everyone else.
Soon days of college came to an end.
And never did I see him again.
Day 39
Excitedly hiding,
in the darkness of my room.
Penning down thoughts.
All cuddled up under warm layers & sheets.
Only wish for a kitten on the lap,
A stack of books,
And a jar of coffee beside me. *_*
Nuraine Sadaf 