Waiting

Anita Bacha

My sleep has left with you;

Waiting on the isolated shore,

I am all alone drunk with remorse;

In the moonless night,

My thoughts, lost in the dark blue sea,

I dream of your nimble form,

Floating on the tranquil water;

I wait and I watch for the waves,

I wait for you to drown in my arms

Anita Bacha

Illustration/photography/anitabacha

moonless night

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GREEN BERYLS

Feeling Christmassy 🎄🌟🎊🎉🎈🎀🎁

Anita Bacha

Two drops run down her cheeks;

In the space of one breath,

I caught the pearls,

Roll them between my thumb

and index finger,

Smell them,

Guess their taste of honey melon,

“Why do they taste so sweet?”

“Don’t Know!”she replied peevishly.

“Your eyes are so beautiful.”

“I know “she said, wiping her tears.

“What’s the colour of your eyes?”looking deep inside.

“Saxon green!”

“Yes, indeed

and I see the brilliance of the sun.”

“There are clouds too”she said

IMG_7469.JPG “Clouds make the rain,

then fall as tears!”

Anita Bacha 

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The Apple of My Eye 

Anita Bacha

The Apple of My Eye

I am reposting this poem and a short story ‘The Scent of a Woman’ which I wrote for my mom, after I read the post ‘Cancer’ on Word press. A very moving story, it left me flabbergasted for days. Cancer is definitely a killer disease, so is ‘stroke’. I was nine years old when my world collapsed. My mother had a stroke; it left her a living vegetable for the rest of her pathetic life. She died after years of suffering at the age of 42.I still wonder how I grew up without her tender care.

The Apple of My Eye

She was walking on the beach,

A long skirt hiding her knees;

Dotted with tiny blue florets,

A white linen blouse flattened her bosom,

Prude,

She never wore a swimsuit;

Immaculate as the sunset,

Pretty as a picture,

Mysterious as the sea,

Smiling to…

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