Red Rose -->

Wednesday, April 27, 2011

Skinny Dipping

Skinny dipping

So free

Nothing between body and water

Water - swaying, gliding, caressing the skin

Unencumbered by spandex, nylon, or cotton

Nothing to hinder the imagination

No ties to the urban world

No pockets

No possessions

An aqua ballet performance

An intimate connection with flowing liquid

Weaves in and out of crevices and curves

Flows and slides smoothly over wet flesh

Soothing fluid relaxation

Licking at nakedness

Liberating the spirit

Stimulating the soul


Thursday, April 21, 2011

My Grandfather: My Hero


Your finger tightly clasped in my little hand
your shadow walking along with mine
grandpa, I was a tender flower bud then
and you nourished me like enriching sunshine

With years we modeled this grand relation
every morning you and I waiting for my school bus
you have the magic to make my wishes come true
we live in a special world, made for both of us

Your words speak from the book of wisdom
you smile like a player who won the game of life
your eyes are deep and full with memories
you always say 'count our blessings when troubles are rife'

You consider my victory as your achievement
and give me strength on my defeats
you always lift me up through high walls
and make my life an enchanting treat

Every moment with you is toned with sweetness
the bond between us is soldered with love
you are irreplaceable, lovable and important
and a part of my life all above

Chetan Sharma

Wednesday, April 13, 2011

In Search Of Me


Where shall we find it
This place of solitude
One that is ours alone?

Shall it be in distant shores
Sea of cerulean blue
Tinged with sunlight
Dancing on the waves
Kissed by golden sands
Swept with the Master's hands

Shall we claim it
Upon the highest pinnacle
Backpack upon us
Staff in hand
Foot secure, trudging
At last
Where our dream began?

Perhaps near a stream
Running cool and clear
Rocks polished smooth
No obstacle to fear

Yet, it may be closer
So much closer than we know
Within our heart;
Reaching deep within our soul
Always there
Our solitude
We may always make it our own

No matter where we go
Wherever we may roam
Our spirit, within us
Always has a home.

Nancy Ellen Crossland

Wednesday, April 6, 2011

Piano Player


Those hateful keys,
All so musically perfect.

Wretched music;
Pages thrown up everywhere.

The polished wood
Gleams and shines, daring you to try.

You have no choice,
You must do as your teacher says.

You settle down,
Sitting on the freezing, hard seat.

Non-budging hands
Makes your head start spinning within.

Then it makes sense,
Why and how you are sitting here.

Your hands fly off,
Tickling the ivory keys.

Wondrous music
Steadily flows towards your ears.

Suddenly stuck
In its musical fantasy

Jessica Pui hung Lee
Red Rose