Someplace To Hide!

Maybe it is the haunting Sun,

It kept away at a time when it was needed the most,

To shine its brightest, to lead with light or to simply,

keep the dark away.

There were days when she searched for a reason,

to run, far, far away into a quiet refuge,

Wherefore, she might find solace,

from a world that believed in noise,

A world that survived,

Hurt with hurt, taunt with taunt,

blood for blood,

Time, tainted by bloodied hands.

Everywhere she turned, looked like a well laid trap,

Waiting to claim a reason to destroy her peace,

She might walk into the waiting trap,

Perhaps followed, stalked, or maybe held hostage.

Treading through undiscovered pathways,

She tried, as only a hunted could,

To hide, to keep away, to go unrecognized.

But this world of noise,

Not one to condone silence,

Continued their own heeding, ceaseless haunting.

Bereft of a place to hide,

She walks towards sublimity,

Where the noise, though tirelessly behind her,


Almost disappearing into obscurity.


All rights reserved. Copyright@shobana2020

Or, what of poetry?

Or, what of poetry?

he once asked,

Well, I said twirling around

on the Sun kissed sands,

It takes me to that faraway place,

One where,

there is peaceful bliss,

an enchantment of beauty,

where the weight of the world,


bears me down.


I ride with freedom in the winds.


All rights reserved. Copyright@shobana2020

When You Leave A Mark In This World

Did you know that footsteps transcend time?

For a billion years ago,

when the world was at its birth,

Its offsprings spread forth,

their word.

They multiplied in numbers,

Journeyed East, West, North and South,




An evolution of mankind.

They created, masterminded,

Different races, cultures, tradition, 



For I tell you my kindred,

If there were no evolution,

we would be,

One Creed,

One Race,


One Religion.

Hence, the world became separate entities.

Separation, its undoing,

As today,

We stand


As Nations,

As Race,

As Religion.

Then, mankind began a new revolution,

One where they thirsted for a united front,

One where they seeked understanding,

One where they soon became endangered,

For their false misrepresentation,

Of Race,

Of Religion,

Of Creed.

Mankind now sees that footsteps taken alone,

Has Divided, 

Has Misrepresented ,

Has Destroyed,

Their Peace,

Their Salvation,

Their Pride,

As Human Beings.

The dawn of a new age thus chaptered,

Now awaits 





When You Leave A Mark In This World,

Be as spirited as the winds of storm,

Be as peaceful as the doves that fly,

Be as genuine as a newborn’s cry.

When you Leave A Mark In This World,

May it be for the good of all mankind.


All rights reserved. Copyright@shobana2020

This Illusion

I dreamed of roses,

The picture in my mind,So exquisite,

That it creates,

An illusion.

This illusion;

It is found somewhere deep within,

In pockets that hold love,

So intricately,

So intensely,

It creates,

An illusion.

This illusion;
It might overshadow thoughts in mind,

Its silent yearning,

Becomes a part of you,

It yearns for a name,

It yearns for some recognition,

It yearns for a space,

in your heart.

This illusion;

Might shatter,

Its glass like figurine,

As fragile as love.

As with love,

It is breakable,

As with love,

It can bloom radiant,

As with love,

It is stitched to the strings of heartbeats.

-shobana-All rights reserved. Copyright@shobana2019



The winning poem published in the Enchanted Conversation Magazine, February 2018 edition.

Hasil carian imej untuk free images of a girl on a hammock by the hills

It is the exquisite enchantment of finding love in the most unlikely of place.

Sometimes its presence whispered by the leaves that stand on sturdy trees on a vast sheer bed of green, so green that it gives the tired eye the refreshing look it so deserves.

The sunlight that catches the tiny speck of glint in her eye makes sure that it also gives it a surreal look.

She embraces its dignity with warm stunning stares, the contours of which indulge in shining love.

She sits high on the hammock tied to a tree

And as she swings sideways singing to the birds that keep her company

Her words are carried far by the light gentle breeze

Her voice that magnify clarity taking the half hidden deer standing between the bushes by surprise and looking up in awe and possibly saying that it is a call from the Goddess of Songs.

The blue of the hills in the distant somewhere collide with drifting clouds that swiftly passes it by

And the wistfulness of the valleys that lay below in a shrouded mist

Hear the sound of an angel somewhere far between them

They echo in resonance in a sweet nostalgic reverence

This Goddess of Song speaks to man and beast alike

Even nature stands in testimony to her coveted embrace

Just as the butterflies and the bees feed on the nectar of their love

The flowers that bloom in prominence discover their radiance

As the sun disappears blending into those hills another time

The song of Goddess becomes a distant song

The spectacular display of a myriad of colors that stream through the sky await the night sky

Just as the stars await to flaunt their presentation

There she goes the Goddess of Song

To quiet the embrace of the night

To return when daybreak consumes her mind

And bring soul to a waiting world once more.


All rights reserved. Copyright@shobana2018

Leaving A Sigh, A Gentle Hush, A Lullaby

It is so becoming, the Sun’s rising and setting, its reflection on tranquil waters,

They become a union, don’t you think? This reflection…

It masks the sky, the seas, and where clouds appeared once,

They now blend into nothingness.

Camouflaged by the colors streamed through skies,

They create a striking ambience, one that shimmers at a glance,

One that beguiles as they enchant,

One that rises as graceful as the subtle tides.

This reflection…

A vision to many,

A due occurrence to the beholder,

An awesome interference to a worldly corner.

As surely as its timely appearance,

Its departs at an opportune moment.

Leaving a sigh, a gentle hush, a lullaby.


All rights reserved. Copyright@shobana2020

To the Rose of My Heart

Rose of My Heart

“It is you,” he said, ever so softly,

“You are the rose of my heart,” his eyes shaded with unspilt tears.

The wind did bring it to her ears,

It carried it far and wide, across oceans,

Across mountains, and through rushing tides.

“Catch it, and keep it close to your heart,” he whispered.

She touched the tender wisps of his words that felt soft on her lips.

She heard his voice as a gentle caress,

She caught it, while its softness endeared him to her heart,

Bearing a craving for his love,

To embrace her in the petals of his love, wrapped in rose buds of eternal flame.


All rights reserved. Copyright@shobana2020

The Summer Sky

Words do belong to dreamers!

Somedays I escape monotony,

Even in a crowd, I feel such emptiness,

I search, explore and find a way,

To bring soulful reasons to unanswered queries.

Why, does the windchime,

Create a vision paralleled to peacefulness?

Where does the flurry of a disturbed notion,

Go when unheeded, unclaimed & deciphered?

I believe they reside deep in the core of your being,

In a tiny vault that says it all,

“Some questions remain unanswered, till the tide breathes its last.”

Somedays when the wind chime trades its soothing sounds,

With broken hearts,

With a tender call, to rouse a grieved,

Its soulful voice brings harmony.


All rights reserved. Copyright@shobanagomes


Image result for free image of a jar half full

The timekeeper kept staring at the clouds,
His glass of water crystal clear,
His thirst not near quenched,
His faltered heart a little fearful,
To face the void of an empty vessel.

He sips, and leaves about a glass half filled,
or would you rather think it half empty?

If all the world drank to quench insatiable thirst,
Would they be as fulfilled as a mocking bird,
Mimicking the ways of other birds,
Having its say, in another’s habit.

If men and women rhymed with the times of present,
Ignoring the past, its lessons undone,
Would they be more the wiser, than all the foxes that hound,
The deepest forest, looking for a naive capture.

If hatefulness resides in hearts of men,
Would love ever find a way to unwind their wickedness,
No, not of this hour, or the next for sure,
For love is salvation, while hate is destruction.

If there was a calm before a storm,
Wouldn’t you think it wise, to be of sound mind,
To be unafraid, to be ready for the onslaught,
Wouldn’t you find a way to avoid all harm?

If you and I, were of beginning of time,
Maybe you the Adam, and I, the Eve,
Would you change the way creation was formed?
Would you let the serpent destroy your calm?

All rights reserved. Copyright@shobana2020

Far Too Late I Realized That Another day And Another Time Was Yesterday…

Once when there was life in me,

I took it for granted,

I waited far too long, thinking I had time,

Maybe to say “I Love You” or just to be around,

To light up someone’s life and maybe even mine.

I put off the day, and then realized far too soon it was night,

Time had passed through my procrastination,

Precious time that I couldn’t ever have again,

Or grasp and hold, and maybe even sing and dance.

Once, said like it was in the past,

Only, it was yesterday that I had missed out on,

Never to hold or grasp in my hand,

Never to sing or dance again.

Time flew past like it always did,

It never checked with the clock before it ticked another minute,

Far too soon, it was time to die,

And far too late, I realized that I needed more time,

To live, maybe to do the things I never did for lack of time,

Or just to sing and dance, to say “I Love You,”

For another chance to see the other side of the world,

That was not within my reach,

The one I wasted time, ignored, and left out of my plans,


I could do it another day, another time,

Far too late, I realized that another day and another time was yesterday!

All rights reserved. Copyright@shobana2018

At first glance, it seemed easy, I, the traveler on a weary road to perhaps fame, I tamed my mind to think in ways one would want to impress, But like a toddler taking baby steps, I fall, struggling to get back on my feet.

The route I took seemed all too ready to steady that feet, Through stumbling tears, I made my smiles just as effortless, I cried first, then I laughed, Isn’t laughter sometimes created from tears?

The road was long, the road was windy, The road took me to eternity, I wondered at some point if I would reach eternity, yes, eternity, But stop I did not, I traveled through time, I traveled through eternity.

There were days when I thought “not a second to waste,” Until one day I realized that it took time to reach eternity, It was the long road I had chosen, Through much travail, none of which man can know or hear of.

I trudged with time on the long road to eternity once, Right now, I face, I stare ahead, I have not seen the end, No, there is no end, I have only been on the trail to the “beginning.”

The End.

This poem was published on the Poetry Festival website on 25/02/2020

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