VALSA GEORGE

 

Memories

 

In the twilight’s deepening stillness

I sit by my window and look outside

The sprawling fields of paddy awaiting harvest,

Take me to those fields where I roamed as a child

Like the blind, across the Braille script,

As I move my hands through the grooves of the past

Before me opens, lovely vistas into my childhood!

 

Those days flitted away so fast

Without leaving much impact

But now I yearn for the pleasures past

And loving faces that used to peer from the drapes

The bright silhouette of my mother’s face

Haloed by the aura of sacred love

The stern but loving face of my father

The guardian and bread winner of our home

The naughty pranks of my siblings

Whose merry laughter made our little nest ring.

 

Scenes I courted once so avidly crowd upon me

As on a tinsel screen, in endless succession

Of the days when my heart never knew any sorrow

And I remained an alien to life’s pressures

 

As I lose myself in the upsurge of memories

Of those whom I shall never see any more

I loathe to tell myself… never shall come again

The same ecstatic joy of innocent childhood!

 

Retracing My Footsteps

 

I want to go back to my past,

When tame pigeons of joy nested on my eaves,

And I could hear their crooning,

With the sweetness of love outpouring

 

I want to go back to my past,

When innocent instincts ruled my heart,

And I ran after every call from the woods or bush,

Mesmerized by the whistles of the oriole and the thrush

 

I want to go back to my past,

When every rainbow and every peacock feather,

Ignited curiosity in me as a child,

And coloured my imagination wild,

 

I want to go back to my past,

When, with friends, I sat in the mango grove,

And savoured the ripe juicy mangoes,

Careful not to let the pulp drip down our mouths,

 

I want to go back to my past,

When we strolled along the sandy strands,

Watching the wild waves' fray,

And cooled by the kiss of spray

 

I want to go back to my past,

When we had watched at night,

A hundred fireflies dancing around the *neem,

Wondering if they were stars fallen from heaven’s seam.

 

I want to go back to my past,

When, like breeze, we ran over the meadows,

Looking for the bleating lamb,

Singing in chorus, ‘Mary had a little lamb.’

 

I want to go back to my past,

When life appears a trying test,

With ‘the slings and arrows of an outrageous fortune’,

And when I feel so desperately alone!

 

Bliss Of Childhood In The Sylvan Setting

 

There’s nothing like the lovely rustic charm,

Exuded by the far flung lush green country farm.

Where trees in majesty sweep heaven with their crown,

 And birds with celestial music, the surrounding valley drown.

 

My senses have ere long etched every sight n’ sound,

Of that countryside wherein my childhood inextricably bound.

To those days of bliss, I would like to retreat,

And splurge in memories that cascade down in surfeit.

 

On a beautiful day with the sun shining bright

And the white downy clouds lazily trailing west

We walked down to the creek to catch the silvery fish,

And waited for them to come to the surface with a swish.

 

On the rocky bank, breathless as we sat,

Looking for the fish greedily nibbling at the bait,

We felt the hookline suddenly going taut,

With something from the other end pulling it tight.

 

Of a sudden reflex as we lifted the rod upright

To our wild uproar, saw a fish dangling and twirling uptight.

“Angling in a brook on a bright sunny day

Is so much fun for the kids”, we heard someone say.

 

Back from school when homework is done,

Quickly, gathering friends, we move as one,

To the open ground beyond the clump of trees,

To run and play in the evening breeze.

 

As black birds wing their way across the sky,

And the ruddy orb in the west is about to die,

When shadows slowly shrink and shrivel

And the dusky eve spreads a smoky veil,

 

Only then, demurring, we leave our play,

Cursing the elements that Time doesn’t stay,

Smutty and gritty, homeward as we plough our way,

We promise once more, we would meet the next day.

 

As hot summer fades and dark clouds gather round,

When east wind scatters dry leaves from the ground,

When elders announce the arrival of an impending shower,

Stealthily we plan to go swimming in the nearby river.

 

On stormy nights as we lie, listening to the splatter of rain,

Over tiled roof with the clatter of a speeding train.

How swift, we drift involuntary to the castle of Slumber,

To be lulled asleep by songs of magical tone and timbre!

 

Now, staying in the mad rush of a steaming city

With people surreptitiously chasing goals so petty

How I miss those yester years that are fled

And yearn for the sylvan paths once more to tread!!

VALSA GEORGE

 

VALSA GEORGE is a retired professor from Kerala. After her successful career as a teacher, she took to poetry. She writes on a wide spectrum of topics spanning Nature, Love, Human relations et al. She has authored over 1500 poems in varied poetic forms which she regularly posts in international poetry websites, reputed journals, and literary publications. She has four anthologies in her name - Beats, Drop of a Feather, Rainbow Hues, and Entwining Shadows - the latter two available on Amazon.com. One of her poems ‘A space Odyssey’ has been included in the CBSE syllabus (Rain Tree Course Book by Orient Black Swan) for the 8th grade students in India from the year 2018. Another poem ‘My Fractured Identity’ is prescribed for the undergraduate students (Voyagers) in Philippines