Skip to main content

From A Dream

(Image only for representation purpose. The copyright lies with the artist. Not Waving but Drowning Fine Art Print - Trudi Doyle)

He walked, bare feet, on a mass of crushed sea-shells
Coarse sand clung onto him, he watched her
Afar; sitting motionless on a wind-beaten rock
As if waiting for knell

'Woosh-woosh' screamed the waves
Gloriously furious, crashing on the moss-covered dock
They came high, they came low
Yet slow, the sea so magnificent
they seemed insignificant
He watched her, sitting motionless
As if waiting for knell

Ominous clouds o'er head
played hide-n-seek with the moon
threatening to steal light till noon
He prayed, she'd move, and he'd take her away
somewhere warm, happy and safe

And then she turned to look at him,
Him eager, she like waif, smiled
his heart in blithe
Only to step deep into the waters
Now safe from the knell

(This is a dream I had recently)


  1. You've put it so well, Nikita. The dream seems almost surreal :) And btw, Now you know which post am looking forward to :-D

  2. Wow!! Love the imagery..


  3. Beautiful poem, it really is. And the girl in the painting, superb.

  4. @ Sneha

    Coming up soon and thank you!

    @ A Journey

    Thank you kiddo!

  5. @ Bob Bushell

    Wow thanks for stopping by! I loved your blog by the way :)

  6. While reading, it feels like a dream... coz I started imagining the picture...

  7. @ Surabhi

    :) And it came from a dream as well! Thank you!

  8. Love the movie i just created in my head!!

  9. @ Surabhi

    Write about it? I would love to read!

  10. Beautiful! Nice n vivid imagery put to words in an amazing manner. :-)

  11. lovely lines...nicely crafted!

  12. @ Sujata

    Thank you!

    @ Kalyan

    Thank you!

  13. Loved the dark element there! It's always great to know that you are not the only one with a weird mind and weirder dreams. ;)


  14. @ bondgal_rulz

    Thank you! I am a fan of the weird!

  15. i wish you could dream about girls more. i would so understand those poems more! :P

  16. Lovely penning of the dream:) Wish I too have lyrical dreams:)

  17. @ Raj

    Really? I should dream more about girls? :P :P :P

    @ Rahul Bhatia

    Thank you for dropping by!

  18. Nikita,

    OMG! What a dream!

    Take care

  19. niks..catch ya in august yar..same team same place near apna bazar..this time along with yr handsome hubby..what say..haha cheers buddy

  20. @ Jack

    Yes :)

    @ R. Ramesh

    Hopefully we shall meet up!


Post a Comment

GO ahead, say it out loud!

Popular posts from this blog

#Sorry not sorry

I feel sorry for ‘Sorry’ – such an abused term. When you come to think of it, it is just a word, right? It holds significance in some instance and at times, it is a mere excuse. But we humans absolutely love it as an excuse, don’t we? I use this term a lot; I mean a lot! I think of myself as a kind being, and hence, if I happen to push or ignore (deliberate), I say ‘sorry’. I say sorry for things that may not need a ‘sorry’. I say ‘sorry’ to people I am not really feeling sorry for (don’t read this the wrong way). In short, I say ‘sorry’ a lot like I have already admitted. It is my ticket to moving on, a ticket to redeem myself for mistakes and sometimes, tinged with slight sadness (maybe).

But is ‘Sorry’ the right word? Mean, is it even appropriate? Like they say, first you commit the murder and then say sorry. What is the point of it? I would say nothing. Sorry – the term originated from the West Germanic term Sore that evolved to Sarig, meaning pained or distressed. It is also known…

Mind vs the heart

Follow my blog with Bloglovin

Picture courtesy: Google. Only for representation purpose.
Standing on the highway, Roads leading both ways to somewhere, I stand still and wonder, Where do I belong?
The soothing lullabies of the green mist fairies call.  With promises to wrap me in the cool calm fog, Holding me in wet, gentle caresses, lulling the storm within. 
The call of the shrill, salt-laden sea sirens,  from the sun-baked rocks, Pull me back To join them as they make me one, in the fathomless abyss of wonders unseen. 
I lament my fragile being,  Born with one heart, not two, Torn between the ebb and flow of waves, And earthy scents in muddy dew. 
Both offer me refuge,  Cloaking me whole in their embrace, Dust to dust, flesh to flesh and soul to soul. 
In this battle between the mind and the heart, The heart but loses steam,  Leaving me stranded on a path to nowhere, never to be seen. 
My mind has been wrought with depression and all things crappy. This is a result of binge-watching a…

I Wonder What Ants do on Rainy Days…

Source: Google Images
On days when the sun has abandoned us, hiding behind the grey, moody clouds. Do they sit inside their hills and wonder out loud? Do they stare outside at the rain, measuring the raindrops, letting thoughts splotch all over? Does the earthy petrichor take them down the memory lane? Or are they content with what nature has to offer? It is a part of their lives, isn’t it? They dredge up foods daily, diligently build their hills, even if it is to serve their queen, only to enjoy it on days like this, no? Maybe they do take stock of things, of their bearings. They ought to sleep it off, take a day to rest or do they lament on the lost time?
Unlike me.
When I gaze out, a gazillion thoughts fly by; some worthy of the pen, some so disturbing that I often question my sanity. I like the grey skies though. They seem like textured canvases waiting for me to scribble something. The lazy raindrops wetting the streets below and casting a temporary stain on window ledges bring a…