Sunrise Splendor

Sunrise amidst clouds

                        When clouds smile
               When warmth is felt within
                   Morning seems surreal.

Winter Sunrise

                         I was watching
   Your glowing love permeated around
             Trees bowed in reverence.

Sunrise

 

Sunrise

 

                  Peeping through trees
           I enlighten light that awakens
                      Your languid love.

This post was inspired from the thoughts I shared with my blogger friend arv, who is very passionate about sunrise and wonders why people share more images of sunset.  Both sunrise and sunset allure me equally and I have spoken about them in my earlier posts. You can click on the highlighted words to read those posts.

Thank you for reading this. Please share your valuable reflections, they are much appreciated.

If you have liked this post, please share it at your favorite social networks.

© Balroop Singh

Advertisements

Love And Christmas Cheer

Christmas Cheer for all

If you are warm and loved this winter
If you can watch the gray sky
From your French windows
Or see the snow falling softly

If you can shut that cold out
Yet watch and enjoy it
With that fireplace glowing
And spreading radiant joy

If you have a loved one to hug you
With music of your choice
Yours is the day and this world
Full of Christmas cheer!
© Balroop Singh

Wishing all my readers Merry Christmas, Happy Holidays and a wonderful 2018.

860a4ed2acf214d99c021ad85a1839001657a847

Emerging from Shadows, Poetry by Balroop Singh

I am delighted to share my blogger friend Cathleen’s wonderful review of my poetry book ‘ Emerging From Shadows.’ I would like to express gratitude for her in-depth analysis of emotions that dominate the poems in this book and the quote she has picked up truly defines the theme that runs through the book.

Cathleen Townsend

Emerging from ShadowsEmerging from Shadows is no callow compilation of a lovestruck young adult’s first sonnets. Rather, it’s the reflections of an emotionally mature writer who has faced life’s stings with a determination to grow from them in an honest and healthy way.

This is a verse from my favorite poem in the collection, Sound that Resounds.

“I can no longer remain insignificant

Your harrowing hauteur is oppressive

Forgive me for finding my own avenues

My gratitude goes to my spirit.”

It’s an excellent read for anyone recovering from emotional trauma, especially those who would rather eschew bitterness, and instead be at peace with how they respond to life’s trials.

View original post

My Muse Almost Got Strangulated

 

words my muse loves
In love with words

She has been wandering around too much, meeting strangers, expecting appreciation, gloating at her beauty and intellect as she reclined leisurely in the glorious sunshine, having abandoned the shadows recently.

Having emerged from her poetic alleys, she got bolder and her escapades with young adventurers almost throttled her as she refused to wear modest garments…some of which seemed incandescent to her new friends. They tried to impose their opinion on her, telling her not to push people away with her ‘excessive alliteration’ and ‘lengthy’ words, guiding her to be humble and simple.

It was too much for the one who has never been snubbed, who likes to boss around, considering herself to be a spontaneous charmer.

She came home disappointed and has been sulking.

‘I hate you’, she looked me in the eye and scowled. I just smiled, which agitated her further. She threw all she had in her pockets at me and scampered away.

Yesterday I saw her, sitting by her favorite creek. I continued my walk, pretending obliviousness but she followed me, igniting new ideas in my mind. I invited her to sit down to have a healthy conversation. She agreed nonchalantly.

‘Would you like a cup of tea,’ I tried to diffuse the situation.

‘I don’t like judgmental people. What do they know about me? How could they condemn me?’ She often blurts like that and I was well prepared to calm her down.

I nodded most lovingly and tried to explain that we don’t have any control over the demeanor of people. She shot me a dagger like glance and espoused her view: ‘why can’t you use the word ‘behavior,’ which such people understand better.’ That’s what they want. That’s why they criticize me.’

‘Critics add another dimension to our personality. Take it in a positive manner. We don’t need to change our style just because others want us to. Let’s bless our critics, as we owe gratitude to them for being our readers.’

Discerning my sermonizing mood, my muse chose to step into the realms of dreams.

Inspired from Diana’s disciplinarian muse. Thanks dear friend.

A poet quote

If you have liked this post, please share it at your favorite social networks.

Balroop Singh.