Learning to Breathe

A MOTHER'S WINTER I pray to God you never know, My prayers are never answered though. The winter's dark and dreary here, All that's wicked is masked with snow. See you yonder a man so queer Who wanders far when death is near? Is that the Reaper on the lake, From whom I've fled all through the year? With frightful fear I sit and shake, My child I've made a huge mistake. I pray my errors you do sweep, And flee this winter's frost and flake! Hurry now, child, into the deep, Glance not behind, my promise keep. Shelter find and a place to sleep While with God's angels must I sleep. - Maryam Kaleem If you find the poem vaguely familiar, it's because I've used the end-rhymes from the famous poem 'Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening' by Robert Frost, and have re-written the rest of the poem. This was a fun experiment. Hope you like it! Find the original poem here:  https://www.poetryf

LAND LOST Where green blends with orange And merges into the very land, Where vast expanses of fertile plains Salute the mellow sun at dawn! To this union of emeralds set in gold I pledge my heart. Where orange skies burst with glee Showering mercy, extending joy To the young flowers plated with gold below - A festival of summer suited for the gods! To this abundance of colour I pledge my heart. Where verdant gardens leap forth with madness In tune with the music of the summer palaces Whose domes once echoed with haunting rhythms of the mystic. The earth engulfed in song! To this pious melody I pledge my heart. Where towering mountains shield the colours within, Their white caps melting into silver streams, That help bleed the red into the green - A sight stolen from the gardens of Paradise! To this divine canvas I pledge my heart. But, The sun now burns the land with a deep grudge, Piercing the hearts of the gardens t

THE CANDLE Upright and confident it shone all night, And every night since its glow faded not. Enlightening sunless paths, enhancing sight, A guardian angel midst a gloomy lot. One candle with the power to ignite A million more. Young, polished, fairy-like, Inspired they are to put up a fight 'Gainst the devil's shadows - strike upon strike. One candle, a shield opposing the dark, One candle to shelter the soul within. One candle, warning the son from its spark, One candle, burning for me its own skin. Now molten, its bright flame leaps higher still, One final caution for the child who sins. - Maryam Kaleem

THE TAILOR'S SCHEME Snippety-snip, The scissors cut through Bundles of cotton, satin and denims blue. Five small dresses of identical hue, Identical fabric, identical sizes too! Five small dresses for five girls aged 22, Of varied tempers, varied virtues - ah! And varied sizes too! Round and round goes the spinning wheel, Stitching shirts and skirts is no ordeal. In gossips and stories lies the real appeal -  Whose mother's a witch? Whose husband's a steal? Spinning, weaving and twirling a reel, Crafting, creating, contriving a spiel. In these hands of thimbles and needles of steel Are nimble yarns ready to be revealed. And in the Third Act the tailor sits pleased, Gazing at the dresses - perfect, without grease! He curls his lip to reveal his disease As he snips at the threads lying at his knees. Tattered and frayed they're lost in the breeze, Years of woven knots, undone with such ease! Snippety-snip - their so