A Writer’s Caprice

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A writer and a poet, Mamta looks within in this verse.

An Inner space of reflection

Mining one’s interior life

The thoughts are held as hostage

Sorting memories

Every word has to be lugged into place

While the obese moon

Saunters pompously

Staining darkness with silvery sheen

The heavy paperweight                                                                   

Lifts from the mind

Freed from sense of claustrophobic confinement

The keyboard feels alive again

The fingers tapping freely

Waiting for polite applause.

Pix from Net


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