Biography of Valsa George
My encounter with poetry was sudden. I didnt write a single poem till 2007. It was the fatal year when I happened to be bedridden for about four months. Obviously I was quite depressed. To while away my time, I started scribbling something and I felt what I wrote made sense and that was my first poem-The Great Escape. It was making myself convinced that my life was not meant to be languished in despair. It had such poignancy and depth of feeling..as it came directly from my heart!
Sensitive by nature, small things can excite me. Nature with her myriad faces has been my greatest inspiration. I am tied down to my family and with moderate comforts, I am happy in life. Retired from a college as a teacher, now I devote a good deal of time in reading and writing poems.
Poem Hunter and the friendship it has extended, I treasure as one of my greatest assets. I feel that each poet has something to speak directly to the world. Unfortunately we poets are a discarded clan. But once we are into poetry, we know how gratifying it is to be a poet.
I express my deep debt of gratitude to all my poet friends who encourage and applaud my poems and inspire me!
Valsa George's Works:
2.The Drop of a Feather
3.Entwining Shadows (available on amazon.com)
4.Rainbow Hues (amazon.com)
- Transgender -new-
Valsa George Poems
Wielding a tool, mighty and spiky Mightier than either the sword or rod He reigns, monarch in Fancy's domain Sketching life in fanciful colour and mode
Like a creature hibernating in its burrow Waiting to come out with the first verdure of spring The seed of a poem lay dormant in my heart Through the long winter awaiting another spring
A Sudden Downpour
Rain beats down on the window pane As the flood gates of Heaven suddenly open It is pouring out in torrential flow Like a Reservoir, all at once, broken
To My Anonymous Lover
Somewhere in a strange land An unknown heart throbs for me Etching an amorous graffiti On the blank walls of my mind
Dust Unto Dust
The briny tears have dried The sounding knells are stilled The grieving crowd, dispersed The parting pain, allayed
A Song Of Hope
When the pall of gloom overcasts my mind And at cross roads bewildered I stand I tell myself This shall pass
Eagle On Wings
Have you watched an eagle in flight? On wings flayed, it looks a massive kite It shoots into the heights with unlabored ease Enjoying the kiss of passing breeze
Sing Praise Unto The Lord
Oh, my Father in Heaven, Guarding me from all perils and trials And sets my heart free of clutter, For you, my songs of praise, I reserve.
Where Lies True Bliss?
Where encased is the secret of bliss Is it encoded in any talisman abstruse? Does it linger unseen on the face of angelic babes Who, with smiles and laughter create such heavenly vibes?
An Agonizing Cry
Stealing away from the noise and glare I paced the aisles of an ancient library Being worn and tired, indisposed to read I sat in a corner, lost in half reverie
A Rag Picker
Sometime after mid night, it had rained Putting out summer’s sultry heat The sky had its face washed clean And wiped the grime off Earth’s soiled feet
What I Wish To Be
Let me be, As God intended me to be: Neither a wicked elf, Nor a fairy godmother,
When Poetry Haunted Me
Sudden was the descent of poetry on me I tottered under its weight My body heated up like the sun A frying egg yolk on the pan
On The Sea Shore
In the warmth of a summer sunset I sat idle on the sea shore Looking at the grey enormity That heaved and swelled in turn
To My Man (Portrait)
Growing out from childish pranks,
With the storm and stress of turbulent teens,
I locked within my mind’s cupboard,
A portrait vaguely sketched, but never finished.
Rough it was, though fancifully done,
The silhouette of a masculine figure,
The Gallant who would reach one day,
To hold my hand and own me his.