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When I was in grade three,
Creativity was Kindled
within me.
My passion for art is
my career now
at twenty-three.

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Her toes were curled so tight...her palm grabbing the sheet,hold of which wasn't even light...
She let out a sigh of extreme delight...My eyes unwilling to miss that sight...
I swirled my fingers again on her pearl,that was upright... Aaahhh said she...and i could feel her senses reignite...

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The storm ended
Dust settled
Noises silenced
And the candle kindled.

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Kindled

Irksome topics
made me to shirk.
What should I write?
How to sight the
right words for a
specific topic,date and time?
Wounds and us sounds
like grounds of trouble.
But how to express?
Little bit skip loose the grip
over the reqular writing.
Beginning felt give up.
Later convinced to check
with the reviewers and gear up.
Then scribble to nibble
in connection with write up
and posting.
At last gasp and chear up.

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Watch after watch illuminates
in my voided eyes,
ashes away.

Piece by piece,sharps of my broken heart
fulgurated into arrows,
kindled away.

Star by star,the night flowers,
opens out,
curdled away.

Petal by petal voices self, shared scents,
carrying your essence
fades away.

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