Wish or Weed ?

It was a new day and it was a new dawn. She woke up before early bird’s chirps and wrapped her shrug over shoulder and went bare feet on a walk .

While walking on paseo , she was staring dews on the grass.
Asphalt road was wet with dew drops in the morning. There grew some delicate, fragile and fuzzy,  Dandelions.

Her sight danced.
She sat by the side of walkway in lawn and watched them with glittering eyes and twirled her fingers upon them with smile.

“Some see a weed,
Some see a wish.”
She winkled out in surprise.

“No, It’s beautiful.
Look it with your heart instead with your eyes. There is beauty in everything but not everyone sees it.”

She tweaked a bunch of dandelions.

“They were roses and I was just a dandelion.”
She rustled.
She led a bit dramatic life since she decided to look for good where she’d been told there was none.

” Some see it as weeds and for some it’s a wish, matter of fact is their perspective.”
She smiled , sullen and sank to sing the beauty of Dandelions  ; asking Are They Flowers or Kind of?

-Sa’Naa 👻.


She . . .

She’s hiding her tears behind mascara,
She’s covering her sore wounds beneath the vintage dress ;
She’s concealing her smoked lips with lipstick.
She’s breathing mosaic of her pity life.

Now Her heart yearns for solitude
And Her soul yearns to hide .
For she’s looking up for her space and air ;
Stepping out of the shackle’s graze , her wrist is free .
Ready to give her hands.
To ? A Better Half !

Tiara over her wavy-beachy auburn hair,
Glimpse of her face through laced veil ;
Her blue eyes is craving for the love.
Love which is deeper than pacific ocean!

Yes , She’s ready to embark into a new Fairyland of herself.
Her hounded soul gears up
Her kisses don’t stain, any longer.

She considered herself weed ;
Today she’s a Rose.
With grace of a woman out of chaos.
And decorated she is waiting for, to bring her lavenders.
She looks glistening to the world , but what about who know her ? Are so close ?
Eventually, people don’t know her struggle!
Thus and so She’s a fighter ,apparently  her days are brighter.
She’s a speck of sparkles ✨ .
-Sa’Naa 👻.
#penwoman✌  #diaryandpenwoman ❤

Interrogation to Soul .

Somebody asked Her , ” What reveals the World could be?”
“Imaginations” , she replied in baritone voice.
And recited a ‘Graveyard Poetry’ of hopelessness.
” I am imaginative!
My soul try to give ‘Imagination a touch of reality’.
Deep inside the Earth dwells my thoughts, which is to be delve.
I am demon at fabrications ;
Diligent, delirious & destitute sometimes.
I am insular myself and shun from others.
I am on-wait ,seemed eternal.
Am i reciting my story to some conservative worthies? ”
She paused with a question and ended up  staring the starry sky.
➖Sa’Naa 👻.


Swaying on my chair,
So filled with despair.

For solitude taunt me,
With memories to haunt me.

Lost in thought ; I’m so sad,
Needs a cup of coffee else I’ll go mad.

I’m begging to Lord,
Gracious, vanish my chaos.

Let reveries overcome,
Wish nightmares never come.

It’s time for a nap ,
Going to my momma’s lap .

-Sa’Naa 👻.

Wish I Could..

I wish never to get nervous when speaking ;
I wish to fetch words exactly ,
I wish to share my story .
I wish to stare sunset & sing memories ;
I wish to get inspired by calamity,
I wish to boom to reality.
I wish never to quit what I starts,
I wish everyone to listen me.
I wish to be firefly;
As to burn my hope till the dawn & then die, eventually.

Summer Love.

..then the sky turned dusty brown. Her eyes danced with clouds movement and thoughts whirled in the cloudy haze sipping coffee.

She sat on the chair and watched lusty sky ; a weather to fall for.
Droplets dangling the metal grille said, “Aye! Set up words and pen them down in Diary.”
She was blank as the fresh page meanwhile few droplets descended on the opened diary resting on her lap.
Forcing her for wordshaping.

She smiled.
“Yes!  About the Sky being lover of the Earth.”
“Earth as She and Sky as He!”
” Sky conquering nature for Earth?”
“About Summer love?”
It’s that time of year, when writers look up for words of beauty and poets talk to weather. From pen pricking dusty dreams to soil rising, swirling and settling.

She stared at alabaster clouds. Stared until the dry land damned life and scrounged for love ; whereas rain quenches the thirst by  showering love twirlingly , showed presence.

‘ This reunion glittered her eyes.’
” I will lock your love-story in words.” She whispered.

Slight drizzle stroked her skin and made her numb.
Numb to their heartache, numb to their epic meeting.

“Ever seen lovers like We?”
She nodded.
“Ever seen such despairful lovers ?”
She nodded again.

“How you both inclined ?”
She asked.

The breeze blew gently and mizzled .

” How she accepted your proposition?”
She mumbled.

The drib tickled her cheeks like crying.
“Doesn’t she beg you, your time?”
She rustled.

The bolts of lightning sparked; thunderclaps streaked.  Clouds turned wicked and shadowy.

She stirred up.

“May be your wrath is beyond her control; still she’s tied up to the knots of heart abiding by redeem.”
The wind blew ferociously , dampened soil’s fragrance captivated  so as not to interrogate her lover.

She smiled.
“Promises adhere to each other.”

She mumbled.
” How unconditional is their love. But I’ve seen people stabbing in love.”

By letting the faith and love of the Divine take over  hearts as my arrogant head bows in humiliation.

The dew drops rolled down her cheeks and fell on her inked diary.

The shower sprinkled, stitching her wounds.

She questioned.
” How kind is you? Kindness.”

Cure overcame pain , so does word.

She sighed with grieve. Rain disappeared. Ground mucked up with filth.
And with the blink ,there was silence again with pleasant sensations around.

She rested her head on wrist and closed her eyes to cherish their love again.

-Sa’Naa 👻.