Literary Thoughts of a Dragon Fly

Singing a song for jim beam Here is to the more spirit I have in my life and in my almost empty glass, However impossible it seems, drinks are going to leave me and I am going to leave them, I am going to say good bye to my best friends to be with you, The shot glasses say one last time, And the tequila say dance with me, Its all the flavor , says Malibu rum, I will drown you in tranquility says the good ole Gin, Give my tonic, my heart says. You can always a sneak a bottle and still be a saint, One a sip is good for soul, says brandy my old friend. Remember the old days, the curtains pulled down And the glasses brought up, Lovers were just memories, The glasses were full, and you were drowned in tears, Now you have pulled the curtains apart, And you say , you are out of your fears, I see a little scare in your eyes, Will he be always there for you, my dear? Take a glass and drown out the sun,

Now a woman is a poem... Now a woman is a poem, and a man a complex web of words, A woman is a different season every day, and a man at times a calm sea and sometimes roaring waves. A woman is a poem, a beautiful, carved, shapely limb of a tree, a swaying leaf in the wind, or a piece of satin scarf drying on the clothes line. A man is a novel, a premise to be understood and followed, A pipe or a cigar or perhaps a hat, His shadows, his wants and his ambitions. A woman is a poem, filled with oh so few words, simile here, metaphor there, mostly an irony and a master in euphemism, A man is a novel, filled with infinite words, infinite possibility, limitless dreams, and grinding failure. You don't make love to a novel, You make love to a poem, You keep it beside you, perhaps a crumbled paper, hidden in a wallet, an anthem for someone or someone's slogan a vow at the wedding or a sombre word at the funeral.. But a novel at times is so much more, a

Here I come thy mother to rest in your loving lap (based on several true incidents) Here I was a small babe, a growing pearl in the oyster, In your warm loving cocoon , full of sunshine love and happiness. It'll be a cosy world, didn't you promise, my dear mother, But i remember the bright memories, the glowing twinkling memories of life. The first steps in the garden and the run in the courtyard, the first cycle and the first fall. The way father guided me, a strict teacher, yet a loving friend. I was safe, secure in this warm haven, Ma Then why did darkness descend on me. What wrong did i do in my innocent years, To descend my steps to the grave. Whom did I harm in my growing years, to suffer a life time and a after life of pain ? Here I come thy mother to rest in your loving lap. I remember in my growing years, A life care-free, abundant with dreams and happiness. Whatever charm life had, I couldnt ever fathom the gloomy clouds approaching. Wha

Thoughts and review on - The Beauty of the Moment by Tanaz Bhathena "Nothing lasts forever," I Say. " Not this snowflake.Not our homes, not our families. But it doesn't mean you can't live in the beauty of the moment." "A girl like that" was a hauntingly sad, beautiful debut by Tanaz Bhathena, so when i got the opportunity to read "The beauty of the moment " almost a year later, I knew i wouldn't be disappointed. The book begins with Susan Thomas, recent immigrant to Mississuaga , Canada with her mother Aruna from Jeddah. Susan Thomas's father Rensil is in Jeddah, who keeps on promising the family, that he will soon leave Jeddah and join them. Susan Thomas is an intelligent , focused student, who joins Arthur Elsridge school, where she struggles initially to make friends . She pines for her old life and friends in Jeddah. In between the heart murmurings and the longings, we are also shown Susan, who is also a quiet rebe

In the Court of Crimson Queen She tips toes like a gentle secret and takes the princess to a dark chamber, A chamber made of rubies and crystals, And they make the princess sit beside the queen, "welcome" says the queen, "Welcome to the court of the crimson queen" The first day, the princess is shackled in chains, All she sees and feels is pain, dark as the red sunset, And the  queen looks on, plays with the wolves, The princess cries softly, hoping to end this pain, On second day, the princess is awake, made to drink the elixir of resilience, So that she can come to life and feel the power, The power flowing in her veins, On third day, she get used to pain, the power flows through her heart, As she dances with the wolves, She is a Goddess of love, beauty and passion, She is made to sit high on pedestal, where a red flower blooms out of her hand. On fourth day, the princess is the queen of the court, The parting queen gave her staff and her c