Mother’s Mantle
She wraps her child
in the old, soft mantle
though the child is
grown into a woman
she has raised
with gentle hands
and tender affection
her daughter shivers
as chill pierces through
holes in the aged fabric
a mother’s excuses
no longer explain
how they came to be
in the first place
through the tight weave
that could never rip.
© Neetu Malik
Some of Neetu’s Books
-
she reaches out
touches fog
she had hoped
for the sun -
Walk me through
your caveshow me the petroglyphs
the stories
you have laboriously pecked on the walls
with your hammer stone,
carved in the light of a lantern
where shadows cast gloom. -
I am but dust
a grain of sand
blowing whichever way
the wind blows
in the universe -
You were the guest at my table picking on the corners of the table cloth, fingers nervously folding and unfolding mutilated pride.
-
Neetu Malik’s poetry is an expression of life’s rhythms and the beat of the human spirit. She draws upon diverse multicultural experiences and observations across three continents in which she has lived.
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ROSALYN’S RING
A rash Christmas Eve quest to save a young woman lands a Baron’s daughter in the lap of a jaded Viscount…and he’s not letting her go.
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A NAUGHTY CHRISTMAS CAROL
What if Scrooge was a tall, dark, and oh so sexy Wall Street billionaire?
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The Pacific breezes blow many things in from the ocean, this time its power, greed, and murder.
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