All by Herself

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Her farsighted eyes squinting to read mine,

Her mumbles and fumbles while I’m welcomed in,  

Her long-crooked nails turning pale-untidy, 

Her white hair outgrown, frizzy and undernourished, 

Those rhythmic wrinkles on her aged-dripping skin

Narrating the highs and lows of them previous years.


The unbreachable stains on her long dress were glued, 

Tooth by tooth giving up on her, the remaining ones 

Giving her enormous pain and unbearable stings. 

Jaw dropping down, sucked-in lips, skinny cheeks, 

Hunched back, cracked calluses and weakening bones 

Reminded me of merely a generation old Banyan tree.


Her strength-less shaky hands creating flickering brushstrokes,

Imprinting wavering and noisy landscapes on the canvas,

Her gallery wall looked fragile, fine and sublime.

The family portrait always welled up her eyes.

Sometimes, she loved her cup of lemon tea, 

And sometimes, she cursed it for being salty. 


She sat out on her rocking chair usually in the mornings 

To bask in the sun and dry herself after a short bath, 

Her contagious smile alone could light up the neighbourhood.

Yet, the kids passing by her porch had named her a witch. 

And by her appearance and aura, you might want to, too. 

Well, to me, she's just an old grandmother living by herself. 


◄ Till Saturn

Tornadic Touch of Love ►


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Manish Singh Rajput

Mon 22nd May 2023 17:17

Matilda, I'm so very glad that you could relive your memories of your grandmother through my poem. I'm happy that you could imagine it and resonate with it. Your comment has given me immense happiness and motivation.
Thank you.😇

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Matilda Simakaj

Mon 22nd May 2023 15:55

Manish thank you for the putting feelings in words! 🙏🙏
While reading the poem, I was crying. While reading it, I saw my grandmother sitting and gazing for hours in the garden. While reading it, I felt my grandmother opening her arms to welcome me. While reading it, I saw her needing compassion.
Through your words you brought back to me memories of happy childhood.
Well done! 🙏🙏

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Manish Singh Rajput

Sun 21st May 2023 15:47

Hélèna, thanks a lot for the comment. Perhaps yes, I'm happy that it all fell in place effectively.

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Sun 21st May 2023 14:46

Yah, I'm speechless too. It's like you inhabited the old woman's mind and heart, and your sense of her flowed on to the page. Your poetry is soaring, Manish.

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Manish Singh Rajput

Sun 21st May 2023 12:58

Stephen, I'm glad that you could resonate with all it's features. Thank you so much for the appreciation.
Leon, my friend, thanks a lot for your comment. Means a lot to me.


Sun 21st May 2023 10:04

This leaves me speechless Manish! 👍


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Stephen Gospage

Sun 21st May 2023 07:22

A spellbinding poem, Manish. The description is so rich and, as others have said, their is warmth and compassion.

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Manish Singh Rajput

Sun 21st May 2023 02:45

Graham, thanks a lot for the comment. In India, we rarely get to see an old aged person living all by themselves. In fact, it's considered as a shameful act on part of the family or relatives who've left an old aged person of their very own to live by themselves, which is completely what's reflected in this poem. Well, I'm happy that you could resonate with the compassion part.

John B, my friend, thank you so much for the appreciation. I'm glad that you liked it. It means a lot to me. Cheers!😄

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Graham Sherwood

Sat 20th May 2023 23:17

For me there is a slightly unsettling serenity in this description..
There is compassion too.

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John Botterill

Sat 20th May 2023 18:55

A gorgeous poem. Full of depth, character and feeling, Manish. A triumph of descriptive writing, which tells a powerful story of how humanity can survive against the odds. Awe- inspiring. Thank you!

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Manish Singh Rajput

Sat 20th May 2023 17:58

Thank you so much for such eloquent appreciation, Keith, Uilleam and Greg. Firstly, thank you for taking time to read my poem, and secondly, for the kind comments, it means a lot to me coming from all you great poets!
I don't exactly know of what inspired me to write a descriptive and perspective poem about a person whom I don't know of. I might've come across such similar living person or portrayal in my past that just happened to clung onto my head, and I'm glad that it did.
Uilleam, I'm always all ears to your unique perspectives. They matter a lot and are much appreciated.
Greg, this is your very first of comments on my piece of writing, it truly means a lot to me.
Keith, you've always been a great support to me from my very first poem, and throughout this journey of WOL so far. I'm so grateful for that.

Thank you for the likes as well, they're much appreciated. Cheers!😄

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Greg Freeman

Sat 20th May 2023 10:11

I can only echo Keith's comments, Manish. A superb observation of age, precise but not unkind - in fact, full of love. Wonderful rhythm to these lines, too.

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Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh

Sat 20th May 2023 10:11

Thank you Manish. A touching description of old age.

"...the kids passing by her porch had named her a witch."---perhaps because they were afraid of her power-which was derived from knowledge and experience?

In past times times, in Britain, and elsewhere, the religious and temporal "authorities", whose power depended on exploiting fear and ignorance, fearing challenges to their authority, had such women executed.

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keith jeffries

Sat 20th May 2023 09:15

Manish, you have excelled yourself with this magnificent piece of writing. The poem is highly descriptive and speaks of an inner and external aspect of human suffering. The imagery is palpable.
A poem in which the raw nature of humanity is gently explored. The reader is there with the writer and not only sees but also feels all that is portrayed.
Very well done and thank you.

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