Neetu Malik

Fences by Neetu

July 26, 2020 by Neetu Malik in category Poet's Day by Neetu Malik tagged as fences, Neetu Malik, poetry

Fences

now
as then

we draw lines
build and rebuild
fences
with new wire
cut of the same steel
forged in
new factories

still owned and run
by warped minds

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Sunflowers by Neetu

May 26, 2020 by Neetu Malik in category Poet's Day by Neetu Malik tagged as Spring, Sunflowers

Sunflowers
 
I will plant sunflowers
in the hollows we have dug
with a rusty spade

it is time to pull old roots
rotten with dead habit
in this neglected garden
long-choked
by winter’s breath

it is time to till the soil
let it soak in fresh April rain
steam in this year’s sun

and exhale pungent fumes
until its pores are free
to seed new grass
and soft beds for my flowers.
 
© Neetu Malik

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Authenticity by Neetu

April 26, 2020 by Neetu Malik in category Poet's Day by Neetu Malik tagged as connections, new friends, smiles

I see him
outlined against the window
in a busy café—
his wool hat on the table
beside a muffin and a cup of tea—
a portrait from a bygone era
and a study in longevity.

He barely moves except to
sip his tea.

I walk up to say hello—
he looks up and smiles, his teeth
a shining white—
they might be false
but who cares?

I catch
the morning sun’s rays in
his eyes;
they cannot lie
nor fake their light.

We talk—
it is so easy to converse,
to steep in his cup,

a rich brew he stirs slowly
and thoughtfully—
I wait
in no hurry to leave.
 
© Neetu Malik

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Beachcombing by Neetu Malik

March 26, 2020 by Neetu Malik in category Poet's Day by Neetu Malik tagged as after the rain, beach, rainbows

 

 Pebbles and seashells
 wash up 
 on my shore—
 I gather them,
 
 string them on lines
 in colors and patterns
 that come to mind,
 
 pin them to the sky
 with golden clasps
 and make rainbows
 when the rain is gone.
  
 © Neetu Malik

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Forsythia Blooms by Neetu Malik

February 26, 2020 by Neetu Malik in category Poet's Day by Neetu Malik tagged as flowers, forsythia blooms, loss, Neetu

Forsythia Blooms


 We meet here again
 but I am alone
 
 shielded by forsythia
 behind memories
 forged and forgotten
 in fields that have
 seen snow and rain
 
 lain desolate 
 before seasons change
 and drifting winds carry
 sounds of birdsong
 to end winter's silence.
 
 We meet again but
 I am alone
 
 with golden bells that
 chime your presence
 as they rise from the earth
 warm once more.
  
  
 © Neetu