The Cobwebs
February 26, 2023 by Neetu Malik in category Poet's Day by Neetu Malik tagged as cobwebs, make believe, Memories, Neetu Malik
The Cobwebs
I was leaning
by the window
standing outside
looking in—
a screen of cobwebs
in between
trapping memories
beaten thin
scantily clad
in make believe,
they shuddered fitfully;
shrouded transparencies
drenched in solemn tears,
entreating release.
©Neetu Malik
First published in The Poetic Bond VI Anthology, Willowdown Press, UK.
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Wanderer
January 26, 2023 by Neetu Malik in category Poet's Day by Neetu Malik tagged as contemplation, lost, Neetu, rivers, searching
Wanderer
by the river
he looks lost
his face appears ancient
in rumination
under the sycamores’
embracing shade
thinks he might see
God
he meets no God
in this heaven
of sacred groves just the rippling river
rushing over stones
and pebbles
as if it has
somewhere to go
and cannot wait
he stands still
and contemplates . . .
©Neetu Malik
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Touch
December 26, 2022 by Neetu Malik in category Poet's Day by Neetu Malik tagged as baby, fathers, Neetu, parents, touch
3 Haiku poems
Touch
your breath on my cheek,
as I hold you close to me,
silken infancy
it was the breeze, or
maybe the brush of your touch,
long lost, yet with me
father holds my hand
between life and death, an ache
forged in memory
©Neetu Malik
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Seasonal Fruit
November 26, 2022 by Neetu Malik in category Poet's Day by Neetu Malik tagged as autumn, coming winter, Neetu, young love, youth
Seasonal Fruit
in a brief burst
of fiery red and gold
we burned….
our flame
inextinguishable
in Autumn’s blasting
wind song
as it whooshed
past our ears with barely
a tickle
ripe as apples
sweetened by the sun
we bit into the luscious fruit
of seasonal love
but fires
do not last and winter must come
yet, for that fleeting moment
we were gloriously
young
©Neetu Malik
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A Walk in the Rain
September 26, 2022 by Neetu Malik in category Poet's Day by Neetu Malik tagged as A Walk in the Rain, beautiful, cobblestones, Neetu, Paris, rain
A Walk in the Rain
Paris, they say,
is beautiful
when it rains—
now I know.
The cobblestones
gleam beneath
our feet, as you
and I, our arms
entwined,
inhale the scent
of romance
washed clean
of old arguments
betrayed loyalties.
Nothing in between
but occasional
crisp sparks
of our own
lightning, intense,
tempered only
by the summer
zephyr carrying
whiffs of rosemary
drenched in the ardor
of Paris.
©Neetu Malik
Previously published in The Poetic Bond V by Willowdown Books, U.K, in 2016
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