With twinkling eyes like those of a mischievious child,
the toothless lady endlessly smiled.
Behind those thick rimmed glasses were the doors
that ended straight down at her soul.
Lying on her death bed she felt beautiful even then and there,
running those skinny fingers playfully through her wavy white hair.
While gazing at the outstretched sky she went on humming her favorite song
as if staring into death’s eyes and asking him to sing along.
When asked by her curious granddaugher the secret to her happiness,
she said its just a choice she made in her yonger days.
To be surrounded by the happiest people on earth,
and to be forever gleaming with positivity and mirth.
A few other secrets are reaching out far and wide for all your dreams,
and never give up eating your favorite ice-creams.
Feed your soul with good books and poetry every single day,
also warm hugs from your loved ones work wonders they say.
(P.S: I imagined myself in my oldage and wrote this poem and I strongly hope this is the kind of woman I become someday. On this special day I wish that all the ladies out there start practicing self-love and take care of their mental and physical health as seriously as they care for others. To all the strong and beautiful women who inspire me to be a better person each day, wishing you all a Happy Internaional Women’s Day 🙂 )
As she watched nature weaving it’s own wordless poetry,
her heart fluttered with ecstasy and soul beamed.
And while the playful breeze tingled her senses
she wrote as she walked on the exotic beach.
She felt like the ocean, her roars creating music.
Fathomless and serene.
One who knows she will have her share of storms,
and yet nurses calmness on the surface and within.
She ran along the woods
soaking in glitters of sunshine filtered through the trees.
And smiling wickedly at the surrounding wilderness,
she crowned herself ‘the queen’ with a tiara made of blossoms and leaves.
She knew she was magic incarnate.
Fiercely independent, passionate and free.
An embodiment of elation and peace.
Like the unshackled bird, singing as she flies in glee.
As the veil lifted off the earth their sight caught hold of a blooming rose bathed in mist. Its color the shade of red same as that of a martyr’s blood. Fierce. Warm. Ozzing pride and passion. A mere bunch of delicate petals, having the tenacity to take one’s breath away. Taking pride in its beauty and power the flower blooms to the awe of her spectators, daring them to question her splendor. For she says that if loved with a true heart she will devote her life to beautify the world of her admirer. And if she is threatened by someone burning in one’s own spleen, she will wait for the moment to laugh over his corpse, seated over it like a mighty queen!
As I opened my eyes to the rain lashed streets right outside my balcony, the smell of damp earth pouring in, birds chirping with ecstasy, the breeze carrying some magic, some madness…I realized that there is so much to fall in love with…in a thousand different ways. Over and over again. There is so much to be grateful for. So much to write about. So much to be inspired from. A perfect morning 🙂