My Mother

The word “Twinkle” jumps at me and triggers  a sweet rhyme to play in my head and I immediately  think of the Taylor sisters and their penmanship. Though its “Twinkle Twinkle Little Star ” by Jane Taylor that won’t ever leave our brains , it’s “My mother” by Ann that has carved a niche in my soul.  For all those bookworms out there who love poetry, I can’t help but share this; Continue reading “My Mother”


Open minded

Home was a quiet place and thoughts didn’t run around much.

All my thoughts, good and bad, all in a giant basket, I walked out.

On my way, out to the big bad world, I dropped a few of them fruits from my basket ,held on to some and walked further..

A few steps down the lane and a few of them bad became rotten. I winced.

Should have thrown them out before. Guilt seeped in . Conscience pricked.

Yet I walked with my basketful of fruits and kept them both ,good and bad.

A few more steps down the lane, the basket was heavy and my hand swept in, grabbed them some, and threw out a few, the good.

Walked down more and then it was late, and I was hungry and I looked in my bag and there lay all of them rotten.

If only I had thrown them out, the bad.




via Daily Prompt: Vice


Dressed sloppily with unkempt hair, munching on Doritos with crumbs smeared all over the face, the TV still on, watching obsessive compulsive cleaners, living room a mess, bedroom another, dishes in the sink,…., okay, that is just being a kook.

More to come and more to go,

there are plenty of them that you call a vice.

Hell, they are not nice!

Breakfast,pizza, a slice,

All the pretty white lies,

and all of life’s spice,

brings you to pay a price.

But to abandon one’s vice

   is a huge compromise

  Once you do and apologise

 and on life improvise,

  You will find yourself in a much better place, paradise.