Rema Pisharody, Author at The WFY

CHEF-D’OEUVRE

Thankfully there remains a leaf that of hopeAt the edgy cliff of that preceptious fateA tree there spreads its green

Sacred bell of a monumental towerStands ahead of time and memoriesIt is time for a candid prayer,Or to commemorate a

Smiles are of different tinges and contourA blend of aesthetically carved emotionsSmiles pure blossom like the flowers of a springDeep

Life encircles on a season of flowers and fragranceWhen Rain and sorrows silence a storm from withinMomentary the grief and

To walk a mile in unknown mystic woods aloneTo long for a star filled night sky of the cosmosTo seek

There no enforced silencein Guru ShikharFrom the foothills heard the songOf the shepherdsEven in war zonesNature has a way to

When rain is of the last alphabet of JuneNothing remains in surface.Words nor silence..When someone empties a basket fullof dark

I capture the last gleam of my eastern prayer roomGolden it’s glimmer to guide me when shadows break the fencesValley

First rain of April is of hopeAhead of a reddened sweltering SunAnd the parched up leavesof olive and peace..Puzzles unresolved

Dear meI think it is important to write a letter to meIn fragrance of loveTo cherish the goodness in me,I