Poetry Blog by Jill Ashforth (Dusk)
a ripple in time
in the muddy waters of life.
Grey faces standing at the bus stop,
A watery sunset glows, pinkly golden,
I walk past and breath life into the scene
with a vapour of hope
escaping from my mouth,
lips stretching in a smile.
Wednesday 10th February 2016 8:06 pm
Dusk falls and bells toll,
echoing across the ghats.
Holy men chant their prayers,
fruit bats soar and glide
across the moonlit, silky grey sky
and a heady, heavy perfume drifts in the cooling breeze.
Relaxing, remembering the bells,
the drums and pipes of Pushkar's bustling daytime.
Sleep will come soon.
Saturday 19th December 2015 11:10 pm