Going Home

Put down your spade that digs the hole
Where all your dreams have gone,
And drop the heavy handed blade
You bled your memories on.
Let go the voice that cried in vain
And burnt away your soul;
Come on, my brother, take my hand,
For we are going home.

The Wait

However strong the love bond may brew,
The love for the body does wither away
As carnal amour cannot forever stay!
The affinity for beauty that resides in the mind,
The attraction to knowledge is rare to find!

I Saw God Today

I saw god today,
He smiled at me through the beaming eyes of a giggling child.
I felt god today,
He was in the warm glow of the sun shining through the fluffed, feathered clouds.

Looking Out of My Window

Looking out of my window, I see birds fluttering and flying in the breeze,
Squeaking and chirping o’er canopies to search seclusion for nesting in peace.
With the yawning cerulean, they flap the first stroke of their wings,
And into the abysmal blue; in merriment, they fly amidst the cloudy rings.

โ€˜Write What Moves You, What Burns Inside of Youโ€™

Letting us know that while working on a book, she starts with the ending and then works backwards, Ms McDonagh, who holds a BA Honours Degree in Drama and English Literature and a Diploma in Creative Writing, says once she puts pen to paper to begin writing a novel, she writes down the main characters first, then what they look like and what kind of personality they have.ย โ€˜I add other characters as I write. I do have a plotline into which I throw my characters, and then, I write how they react to the events that happen to them,โ€™ she tells us, adding that this often means the storyline changes, depending on what her characters do. โ€˜I love writing like that as I have the freedom to change a story, yet I have the structure so that I can keep on track to a certain extent,โ€™ she states.ย 

In Memory of My Late Guru

Your absence is a raging storm,
One that refuses to abate;
It now wills to drive me, my fate,
Swirling and uprooting all calm.

Madman’s Curtal

No man now mad is to be looked down on,
Great stories for are told by manic men;
Mind that remembered minds stayed daft, didn’t ask
‘Has our existence maddened those come and gone?’

Time After Time

Tick tock goes the clock!
Time won’t let us dock.
Keep on moving. Act.
Action is Auspicious.
Everything that happens,
Happens for the best.
Time travellers take no rest.
Who knows?
Perhaps the universe
Is taking a test?
Perhaps the universe
Is taking place
Within a test?

Forlorn

How can I forget
those long walks, those long talks?
Those endless hours of plucking flowers?
Those mindful roams around winding roads?
Those flying kites and those starry nights?
Making a huddle while playing in the puddle?
Chasing dragonflies and chasing butterflies?
Smelling the petrichor after the rains galore?
The winsome smile after running a mile?

Old Widow Is Back at Work

Her eyes tell tales
Even as her mouth mouths words none get.
Something’s awry;
The day she absented herself,
Something transpired,
For her smile is now gone, missing;
Remains now just
A flesh without a soul, conscience.

You Are My Poetry

I will treasure everything of you like the gems of wisdom a scholar keeps in the coffer of his mind. When I look at your smile, in my heart, poems take birth. As a chivalrous lover, I want to proffer them to you. For you are my poetry.

Letting Stories Unfold

Says Mr Elustondo, who has had the opportunity to travel to many countries in Europe, Asia, and Latin America, โ€˜I would say that in writing, as in anything else in life, nothing comes easy and requires perseverance, self-confidence, and believing in what you are doing. Learning from a set-back should be a powerful motivator to move forward and become successful. It requires a cool mind and self-searching to understand why sometimes things do not go as we expect and whether we truly believe in our goals. Keep writing and reading since this helps us hone our skills and discover new forms of expression.โ€™

Back to the Pavilion

Her legs are now treading artfully,
Stopping once she reaches her destination;
She’s content, for schools are now reopened,
Gladdened is she at the prospect of
Meeting new students,
Friending youngsters,
Andโ€ฆ making money.
She has never been to school though.

After Nightfall

Lifeless stood the trees
Bare of leaf in a silent forest
Where no living creature ventured
Inert was the night sky
Expressionless and inscrutable of regard
Devoid of sparkle from stars
Empty of meteor or cosmic dust

Point Five

My brother was called point five since his walk
Was like that of a lass and likened much
To dames that were abiding far; his speech
Was quite high-pitched, possessing girlish touch.
The folks he was acquainted with would breach
Rules made, not one or two or three but each.

The Ocean Slumbered

The ocean slumbered
Beneath the silent eyes of a sea of stars
Strewn across the vast firmament
The slow lapping of a million waves
Into deep sleep
Did the waters lull
All the fishes of the sea
Had for the night retired
Into myriad secret folds

Shimmed and Chiming

Eldritch witches stitched the charming chambers
With chandeliers, each of which bewitched
Charlie; and Charles, who was chastised
By rich, unchaste, chilling chaps,
Who, with cheeks chiselled, downed
Glasses of champagne,
Chilled and cheering,
Choked, choking
Witches

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