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
© Neetu Malik
-
first snow
flakes of a poem
fall on my page -
Shall we dip our brush
in the deep blue dusk
so we may paint joy
we stole from
the passing day
before it grows dark? -
all I hear is this song…
carried to my ears upon waves
as they ebb and return
a symphony of love
played on instruments
of the heart— -
sultry afternoon
in the vast cornfields
reaping gold -
I wait eagerly
for absolute darkness
to lose my shadow
Featured Books
THE LAST MILE
A novel of taut suspense and danger from New York Times bestselling author Kat Martin.
More info →
FATED HEARTS: A Love After All Retelling of the Scottish Play
Everything he’d believed to be true was a lie.
More info → THE FALLING OF THE MOON
In the gloomy mountains of Shadowvale, Ascot Abberdorf is expected to marry a somber Count and settle down to a quiet life terrorizing the villagers.
More info → 
Hi Neetu,
I admire your skill with words. Each one selected and joined to the next for a most powerful effect. Wow!
Thank you, Veronica.