! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! In A Languid Mood! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! Poem by Mamta Agarwal
! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! In A Languid Mood! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! !
Chill crawled up my spine like a slithering reptile.
Hugged my patchwork quilt and just lay supine.
Drifted into fitful sleep, and woke with a start.
Bit disoriented, dawn or dusk, it was dark.
I think I was caught in a sort of time warp.
It took a while to shake off and grasp,
Dusk was singing a dirge, felt appalled.
Alarmed got up, before my thoughts snowballed.
Picked up some logs, as the mercury falls.
Fever had taken its toll, so picked up a shawl.
Glanced out of window, lawn draped in smog.
Home was wrapped in silence, loneliness stalked.
Strange, always craved for some quiet time, space
Just catch up with myself, till small arms embraced.
And trill, do I smell my favourite pasta and bread.
Please, after dinner you tuck me in bed.
Smiled to myself as memories flooded
Now he is all grown up and we are buddies.
Was he really here a week from Europe?
Oh, sound like a mom from one of the soaps…
A nervous laughter escaped my parched lips
My sullen mood was clutching me in its grip.
This was the hour when kids stormed into hall.
Is this how an addict feels symptoms of withdrawal?
Dream is on and desire is burning, to have the one that we've always want.Great work Mamta.
In your fragility lies your greatest strength. Your candor must endear you to all of your readers. You give yourself away in words so very effectively. Lovely work... Always your friend, Sandra
Addicted to love, of course. And its wonderful to see the children growing up... the beginning was really good, mamta
Dear Mamta, This beautiful poem is a gift of a weeklong home visit of your son from Europe. Your poetry seems to me is a blessing of your real life dreams and you have the art to involve your readers and friends in your personal feelings and moods. Best Regards. Naseer
Each word glitters in its poetic beauty and each image wraps the poetic gems in your journey from this season to the soul. CP
Beautifully expressed. I always wonder about how a mother would ever be able to go on with her life after her children grow up and leave. though life goes on, the emotional investment of a mother is huge and the void created when children grow up and leave is tremendous.
Good poem Mamta...sweetly reflective...life offers a lot always any age...no wonder we get addicted to it...10
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/24/2024 1:59:07 PM # 1.0.0.1119
Dusk was singing a dirge, felt appalled well written confessional poem, nice rhymes 10/10