Day 26 of NaPoWriMo 2020


Photo by Xu Haiwei on Unsplash


“We were goin’ to meet again and wait”
I stand under the tree in rain and wait

I stand accused of things that I never did
But, for you I will swear in vain and wait

Why not celebrate and toast what we have?
Iced and uncorked is champagne.  And wait.

Thirsty you have made me, thirsty I am.  How
long will it be?  How long must I abstain and wait?

For you, I’ll take on the world, but give me a sign.
I’m going crazy anticipating in this vein and wait.

‘Mirage’ conjures up the visions of exotic islands,
With nowhere to go, all I do is complain and wait.


Notes:  Day 26 of NaPoWriMo 2020.  Off prompt today as well.

Penned another ghazal.  I started with the first line from Bob Dylan’s song “This wheel’s on fire”.  Incidentally, this is 200th post on this blog, it took me a good 8 years to get there.

At Last

Day 8 Of NaPoWriMo 2018. 

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At the diner, on the jukebox, Etta James belts out ‘at last’
Let’s enjoy the burgers and fries and end our silly little bout, at last.

O fair apsara – Urvashi, I am Pururavas, the warrior, your rescuer
State your demands and I’ll agree and let our love sprout, at last.

The masters of the universe, the big boys of free market, the banksters
are made whole, only because of big government bailout, at last.

I remember, that the picnic in the meadow full of swinging wildflowers,
And where stole a kiss, despite your hesitation and doubt, at last.

My professed sentiments you must believe, they are real and not a ‘Mirage’,
Now let’s see that radiant smile breakout, through that sulky pout, at last.

Off prompt again today, except from one mythological reference in couplet two, which references the mythology of Urvashi, an apsara (or a nymph) in Indra’s court and Puraravas, a mortal.

But, here is the prompt for today:

Let’s take a leaf from Shelley’s book, and write poems in which mysterious and magical things occur. Your poem could take the form of a spell, for example, or simply describe an event that can’t be understood literally. Feel free to incorporate crystal balls, fauns, lightning storms, or whatever seems fierce and free and strange. Poetry is like that (at least when you’ve been reading Shelley!) If you’re in search of inspiration, maybe you’ll find it in this poem by Louis Untermeyer, or this one by Kathleen Graber.