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Ways down in town of Witch Street there was a Princess-Tree

Was elegant with flowers of lavender color

Born up as kid with nature’s love
Hanging leaves in the gust with raising brushwood’s
Days passed away with dawn and moon
Witches in Witch Street were viewing with smile in brims.
She grew up above and above with her dreams
she raised her branches up to heaven with love

As she grew one of her gust was in golden color
she didn’t highly distinct it.

Days and seasons changed with fear

She was wondering why I am alone in this witch street

She noticed a yellow maple with hats hanging on brushwood’s
she twinkled with her eyes and welcomed yellow maple
Along with the days as friends they fall in love

Romance was born and resulted with sign for love

They named her as red maple with love
Red maple even had a golden leaf even hangs on her gust
on the lights of dusk she was playing with her mother

Witches came near by and was going to pluck the
Golden leafs on Princess, but
Hands of witch plucked out red maple’s leaf
Storms lighted up, gust moved around with fire

Princess hold her into her hands and closed her eyes
But red maple turned into red woods and disappeared
Princess cried loudly and raised her brushwood’s
and she torn witch into pieces and thrown

Up above the clouds the witch shattered around
Princess cried out of heart at loud with tears
and screamed for her little heart

Yellow maple hugged Princess  and said

Our red maple won’t come back
And though we should leave this world
My red maple……. they cried loud
With falling  leaves and dried  tears
They  died out  with lasting love.

His eyes drink up the sun,

Of his spirit there is none,

A timed capsule, done,

Waiting for the next run.

The climax of pleasure,

His soul it enthralls,

But after that measure,

Of wondrous fall,

Into temptation’s cave,

he knocks the door,

Either sanity to save,

Or to borrow more,

More youthful time,

That is not really his,

 To ignore the crime,

He himself inflicts.

There atone,

 Sorrow’s cheeks,

Lost and alone,

Where lovers meet,

There a dark place,

Insultingly staring,

His demon’s face,

Silently peering.

Peering, unfed, enraged,

Nothing to chew

Ignored and self-caged,

Of what he knew.

Atop an empty sable scene,

(O! If man but truly knew)

The moon in pity gleams,

His demon eyes of blue.A

Your Presence

I can still hear your laugh and see your joy

I know that you are there somewhere, my friend

Wherever I turn, you are in my eyes

And our friendship warms my heart

I see you in the clouds which are ready to cry

In the thousand drops of rain

In the many winds that crash against the oaks

And in the chime of the church bells.

You meant a lot to me, yes, you did.

When I saw dark clouds in my sky,

You were my silver lining.

Times have come and gone

And people have changed

But things were always the same for us.

You came into my life

Like the spring breeze of April

Like the scarlet of the crimson roses

Like a pleasant siesta dream

But where are you now?

Oh! Do give me a notion

I know that you are there somewhere

Your presence I can feel

And your memories bring me joy

But ‘somewhere’ is a long distance,

Somewhere among the clouds

Somewhere across the seven seas

Somewhere in the constellations

Like a glowing ball of fire

Still showing me the right way.

When will I join you?

This waiting is long

And patience I have not

Today, as I walk to the cemetery,

You remind me of the roses at your grave.

I know you are aware

Of the loneliness I felt after your death

I’m impatiently waiting

To fly to the clouds,

To sail across the seven seas

And to meet you at the end of constellations

‘Coz you were everything to me.

Alliteration poem using the letter “C”
By Shauna and Aisha
Carrie consumed coffee and croissants at the Columbia Cafe on a clear corner.
Craving coffee constantly.
Climbing to catch a cup of coffee, Carrie crashed.
Cruel caffeine.
Careless copious cups; a calamity for cool Carrie.
“Couldn’t coffee be caffeine-free?”, considered Carrie.
Costly cups continuously cascading cross the counter.
“Courage and cappuccinos!”, cried Carrie.

Birthday Greetings  

As themes show signs of natures stay,

And times propitious dates hold sway,

The evidence augurs your bloom,

From sculptured years that now have hewn

A shapened belle upon a theme,

Appears today, your beauty’s seam,

Enjoined! auspicious perfect pair,

The past, has futured you so fair.


Your Visions Standing Here

Mine eyes beheld your beauty,

My thoughts remember how,

Your loveliness I cherish,

Where ever you are now,

And in my heart I know you,

Always to be near,

Because your vision glories,

My picture of you clear,

And while this life we passage,

Your bloom will help me bear,

My feelings for you, waiting,

Until your standing here.


Poet’s notes : The story of our man, illustrated in the letter, is very abstract. The lines must not be taken literally or physically, in the man’s interactions with the tree and the experiences he goes through. I didn’t want to restrict the reader’s imagination. It is written in such a way, that you join the dots in your own unique way. What is this key? Maybe it’s a fruit from this accursed vampyric tree, maybe it is an actual key that opens a door inside the tree where the man enters. Maybe the roaming soul mentioned at the beginning of the poem possesses the man, and inhabits his mind with all these thoughts of him being a tree, it’s all up to the reader. I found similarities in the nature of trees that are vampyric in my opinion that I wanted to exploit ,away from the traditional ‘bat-tale’. The bottom line of this piece that I really want to emphasize is this: What if vampirism isn’t just merely a bat-bite? What if it’s something more? A biological or metaphorical mutation of pure human emotions and feelings like lust, greed and power. My endeavor in this piece is to explore those emotions and emphasize on human frailty and weakness, realization of the vanity, of the beautiful promise of immortality and then ending the letter with melancholy remorse.Thus, the opening line “Someone died of looking too far”, Hope I delivered such ideas into your mind and thanks for reading.

“Someone died of looking too far”

The forest near Golgoltha is like flesh to a bone,
It’s been there since the beginnings of time.
Now that flesh bleeds and the bone’s become weak,
The trees hold sway to an ancient rhyme.
Maybe from a pebble, maybe a stone,
A soul began to roam seeking different forms.
And maybe it gathered a lust for immortality
Even greed!
All that is certain is the blackness,
of this seed.
Now it lurks within an oak tree,
In the forest of Golgoltha
Where no one is to wander free.
But as the fate’s tragic strings do play,
A man happened to go astray.
A man with a character, who’s ever hungry,
Ever in need for more!
That never finds rest,
Never reaches shore.
They say he met his end,
Leaving behind him only a note,
buried underneath a tree,
In the forest of Golgoltha,
where no one is to wander free.

“There is a key,
Beneath the tree,
Made from its morbid leaves,
It reveals an ever-open door of unease.

Its branches shape my twisted thoughts,
And I crave what the trees really sought.
But entering is agony to the world untaught,
Of control, anger and remorse,
And I will be the center of its knot.

I realize I’m more,
As I dance in its rain,
I’m angelic!
Yet truthfully vain,
I perceive my dark strains,
I see them reflected on a tiny sand grain.

They are trees,
Rotten pulp inside and never well.
Roots sucking, ever-growing, undying thirst!
Tired boughs* reaching for the light.

Decadent, Taking from others to live.
Bound forever to marvel at death.

And now I have become like them,
Sucking crimson fluid through a hollow stem.
Driven by hunger, weak in the light
Never at ease, roaming the night.

An unfettered beast within me,
Claiming sovereign control.
I pace deserted roads to find,
A refreshing taste of hope.

This is now my home that will,
hungrily devour my own name,
and my soul gladly kill,
with no deep enough, a grave.

While the moon is riding high
A veiled feeling is flaking inside
Where beauty sleeps in the lap of horror!

I feel the dark
I feel the dark…”

Born with a skull of bones in the light of morning cloud

It so happened in a sky filled with rain and stormy clouds
Her first cry moved around the hospital with a thank to god
She was born to take her list of dos

She walked, fell down and cried moving around on her feet
Loved and cared with love in hands of a mother
Reaching on her first year of day the almighty wrote on her skull
Month one started for the journey……………

Flying like a butterfly all around the world like a Cinderella
Playing around with her friends and fighting for her dolly
Moving around with a half of food inside and outside of mouth
Sleeping with bedtime stories near to her mother”s heart

Month two started for the journey……………
Seasons changed with light and darkness around her
Sunny evening shined played around with family
Bunch of happiness surrounded her with joyful
Hours were counted near to her……………

Slipped and fell from the large heights of her house
Kissed on the ground by spreading colors of red
Burst out with fear and cried out without breath
Ran towards her and took her on his hand

With broken skull, the butterfly smiled and closed the eyes
Father touched his little kid and said my dear my blood
Don’t go……………

Counting hours ended and said goodbye to the world
Life splits with the hours and faith plays the game

Ready with flowers filled with love at cemetery
Hugged towards to heart and cried out loud, my child
Prayers surrounded from the heartbeat of life’s
All the hours left into bones with out a heart

An old man at the cemetery looked at the little bones
Taking skull into his hand and said only two chapters
Looking up into the sky and asked why only two chapters
Old man swiped his tears and said this was no needed

Only two chapters……………


NOTE: This recently occurred near to my home. Poor child Let her soul rest in peace.

Note : My creative Hat is a poem regarding a art director thoughts.

I am holding a hat where ideas are filled

I am holding a book where my figures speak

I am holding a pen where it makes me to run


I draw with imaginations in my stage of ground

I give life to it and express around the colors

I move around to find out a letter with wings

Which makes me to think what I should?


I love to draw and love to be with drawing

I love to get things all around and be with it

I love to collect and make it all in joy

I love to be with colors so as to make colorful


My life is full of threads which connects all the heads

I create it around the heads and surround it with life

I reach to everyone’s mind and explore it with thoughts

I play with lights and hang up on like a bulb

I will never end up with a how and makes it a bow

I design all up the days and

Still moves around with my hat.


July 2020

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