Thought I would share some exotic chrysanthemums from the “Mum Festival” at Longwood Gardens, Kennett Square, PA. Enjoy!
Exotic chrysanthemums
Moments with my son
The golden sunsets we watch together
The stories we invent with each other
Imagination of each one working in tandem
Piecing together thoughts picked at random-
Silly games that together we conjure
Shaking with laughter to our very core-
For the thousandth time, I pause to marvel
At my golden luck, as I see the sparkle
In your smiling eyes that has me spellbound
In your exuberance, love for life I have found..
**
These moments are transient, I’m acutely aware
Soon you will change, the idea gives me a scare!
So I try to capture each moment you spend with me
On camera, on paper, quite industriously!
**
You have taught me to live in the moment
To enjoy silliness of make-believe and pretend
You’ve given me hope and a new perspective
In dispelling my gloom, you are always effective!
Simplify
Maybe a misfit, a rebel am I
In this world of complexities galore
All I want to do is simplify-
I am tired of constantly hunting for more
Adding more variables to every equation
Acquiring devices of increasing sophistication
Adding more “features”, more “applications”
Labeled indispensable for life’s “simplification”..
Inherent is the implication that life before
These gadgets was difficult and complicated
Technology today has opened new doors
Leaving older ways of living quite antiquated..
**
In my quirkiness, I beg to differ
With each novel device and application
Life which used to be a shade simpler
Acquires a deeper hue of elaboration
Devious is the way this process operates
Creating a need where none existed
Then there is a simple process that satiates
This artificial need- the logic is twisted!
**
Increasingly enslaved by technology
My jaded mind just wants to break free
Downsize, declutter, simplify is my ideology
I strongly recommend one or more of the three!
Shannon’s Creative Photo Challenge: White
The Old Faithful Geyser erupting in a white froth-at Yellowstone National Park, Wyoming
White flowers, at the Philadelphia Flower Show
Carved in white marble, Akshardham Temple, New Jersey
The brilliance of a white fountain in the night, near Lincoln Center, New York City
The power of a poem
Written in response to Indispire: A poem that left a lasting impression
If I could give you a window
Into the depths of my mind
If my true colors I tried to show
In a manner visible to the blind
If my raw emotions I had to display
They could not be expressed any better
Than in a powerful verse, I would say
With magic infused in every word and letter…
**
For poetry is the zenith of all art
The divine medium, by gods decreed
It is the mellifluous voice of the heart
An expression of the soul’s hidden need
When woven in a verse seamlessly
Dark thoughts become palatable
As poets pen verses ceaselessly
Making nebulous ideas palpable.
**
In the span of a few lines you may embark
On an emotional roller-coaster ride
Come face to face with the reality stark
Open your mind to possibilities wide..
**
Embrace the world of verse, I urge
You will be transformed, I can assure
In a sea of imagery you will submerge
Discover the hidden truth, brilliant and pure.
With this ode to a poem, I am going to talk about my favorite poems:
1. The Glories of Our Blood and State- James Shirley
The glories of our blood and state
Are shadows, not substantial things;
There is no armour against Fate;
Death lays his icy hand on kings:
Sceptre and Crown
Must tumble down,
And in the dust be equal made
With the poor crooked scythe and spade.
Love this because it is a great reminder of how victory is transient, no matter what stage of life you are in.
I wandered lonely as a cloud
That floats on high o’er vales and hills,
When all at once I saw a crowd,
A host, of golden daffodils;
That floats on high o’er vales and hills,
When all at once I saw a crowd,
A host, of golden daffodils;
Ten thousand saw I at a glance
Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.
Growing up in India, I never really saw daffodils, and always wondered what they looked like. Also tried to imagine what ten thousand daffodils would look like…so I love the visual imagery in this poem…
Success is counted sweetest
By those who ne’er succeed.
To comprehend a nectar
Requires sorest need.
As he defeated – dying –
On whose forbidden ear
The distant strains of triumph
Burst agonized and clear!
I always remember this poem when in the throes of jealousy and self-pity over something I am never good at, while someone I know really excels at it. Overall I agree that I have experienced success more than failure in my life…
She walks in beauty, like the night
Of cloudless climes and starry skies;
And all that’s best of dark and bright
Meet in her aspect and her eyes;
These lines are just hopelessly romantic and lusciously lovely….the way every woman would like to be described, and the way every man’s lady love would appear…
If you can dream—and not make dreams your master;
If you can think—and not make thoughts your aim;
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two impostors just the same;
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: ‘Hold on!’
I saved the best for the last, this is the most inspiring poem I have ever read in my life. The first verse about triumph and disaster is mentioned on the walls of Wimbledon, and I aspire to be able to follow it..
The second verse mentioned here is something I wrote in an unsteady hand as I was developing progressive paralysis of all 4 limbs from a rare nervous system disease called “Guillaine-Barre syndrome” at the age of 14 on a poster and had mounted on the wall. My paralysis progressed to where I could no longer write, and then 6 agonizing months of recovery followed during which these lines gave me strength.
Stopping by a meadow on a dreary evening..
The day today seems dreary
Run-of-the-mill, perfectly ordinary
Filled with moments of monotony
Discussions on politics and economy
Nothing exciting to look at or explore
A day singular in being nothing but a bore
**
As I embark at the end of the day
Home, driving along my tried and tested way
Suddenly I am forced to take a detour
Road closure- what else do I have to endure?
Clearly irritated, reluctantly I change my route
This disruption to my routine I could do without..
**
To my surprise, I am driving through a meadow
So picturesque that inadvertently I start going slow
Until the inviting fields force on me a complete halt
I will be late reaching home, it won’t be my fault
I run through the meadow like a bird carefree
Taking in the air, the grass, the flowers recklessly
Finding a meandering brook that gurgles musically
Is the cherry on the pie, topping the experience actually
I whisper a prayer for this unexpected twist to the day
Here’s my small adventure, a secret along the way!
**
That was a day, in spring years ago
Taught me a lesson invaluable though
Since then I have welcomed detours quite a few
Taking “The Road Not Taken” has its joys too
Adventure can be found in daily existence
Monotony can be broken if we are persistent
So stop by the woods, or the roadside or a park
Discover beauty and reignite the adventurous spark!
Write and rejuvenate
Orange hues of the winter sun
Percolating through the blinds open
Reminding me of the night before
When my deepest desires did I explore
Waking up with an enigmatic smile
Oblivious of the world for a while
With days bathed in love, nights in passion
Dreaming of spending my life in this fashion
**
Those halcyon days have since then
Vanished without a trace from my horizon
Honeymoon phases do not last long
Time tends to feeble desires strong
The rays of the wintersun now remind
Me of morning madness to be on time
Passion, romance are concepts elusive
The monotony of daily life is not conducive
To spending nights drenched in passion
And wake up feeling unrestrained elation
Once in a while I long for those days-
Of losing myself in a dreamy haze
**
Knowing the experience will never quite be
A treat to the senses like it used to be
That passion I now try to recreate
In my writing so that I can satiate
A longing to preserve the past as it had been
And be more enthusiastic for the future unseen
Writing liberates me and lets me be
From all constraints of age and time, free!
**
May I go ahead and audaciously suggest
To try writing instead of seeking a therapist
When mid-life crisis looms large over you
Penning down your thoughts may carry you through!
CEE’S FUN FOTO CHALLENGE: ANYTHING PAINTED
Linking to :http://ceenphotography.com/2015/11/10/cees-fun-foto-challenge-anything-painted/
While I probably have hundreds of photographs that would fit the bill, I decided to go with these striking ones-
Over-painted sculptures at a children’s museum in San Diego, CA
Painted fence and painted bench at the Children’s Garden, Camden, NJ
Cee’s Black & White Challenge: Patterns
Patterns could be found everywhere-
So he believed, and he would dare
To find a pattern, however obscure
Painstakingly he would explore
Tiny bits of superfluous information;
String them together in a logical formation-
He found patterns in thoughts and actions
Of individuals, groups and even nations
In predicting the patterns of others, it’s true
He had forgotten his own patterns too!
Bug patterns
Fountain patterns
Patterned throne of the Queen of Hearts’ throne (from Alice in Wonderland)
Patterns with legos
Patterned globe
Patterned quilt
One Word Photo Challenge-Seasons- Cloudy!
I chose cloudy weather- not my favorite, especially not for photography, but here we are-
I’m nostalgic for those cloudy days
Where clouds outside my window would stay
Descending in to the valley, dark and deep
Pressing me to crawl under covers and sleep
The clouds brought with them seductive languor
I’d read a book tucked in a cozy corner
Endless cups of coffee I would consume
Unfinished writing I would resume
And wait for the silver lining promised to me
As I went through the day cloudy..
Clouds covering Mt. Washington, New Hampshire
A cloudy morning somewhere in the Himalayan foothills
Clouds and the waterfall- a misty morning at Niagara Falls, NY
Clouds and rain seen from the window of a cruise ship- off the Florida coast
View from a helicopter on a cloudy day- in Delaware
Weekly photo challenge-Ornate
Here are my picks!
Ornate Ceiling, Vatican City Museum
Ornately decorated elephant- at the Philadelphia Flower Show
Ornate personified: the Venetian, Las Vegas
Ornate portraits- at the Old Town, San Diego
Ornate emerald chandelier at the Corning Museum of Glass, NY
Ornate in white: intricate carving at the Akshardham Hindu Temple, New Jersey
Aging..
Age is an issue of mind over matter. If you don’t mind it doesn’t matter.- Mark Twain
Into the mirror when I peer
Devoid of the contoured veneer
Of flawless foundation on my face
I am reminded of my time and place
In this world, and I quickly realize
That though I might hide and minimize
The ravages of aging, I cannot ignore
Greying hair and wrinkles, each day some more
Extra pounds make their presence felt
As stubborn cellulite creeps in with stealth.
**
As my physical attributes proclaim
A gradual decline is part of the game
On the other hand growing older has brought
Its own rewards of which I had never thought
Such as gifting me the most prized accessory-
Confidence, which has replaced my gaucherie
With age I see my insecurities dwindle
I feel free, and my passions are rekindled
To disregard others’ opinions is much easier
I follow my heart, in a manner much breezier
Preconceived notions of others, forced on me
I can now disregard, I think, quite freely
More attuned to my definite mortality
I pay attention, not to quantity but quality
Thus though my body more feeble be
I stand on firmer ground undoubtedly!
Passion...unbridled 
