Monday, August 14, 2006

Grace.
A lilt of music circles the sweat-driven air.
An invisible note,
A silent whisper touches the ear.
I look up.
It curls around a variety of heads, oil-plastered, greasy curls,
Grimy, toiling hands, shuffling feet.
Through the dancing dust - a glimmer of Red.
Anklets.
She sways to her own tune, the beat hidden in her head.
I feel the sound. I hear the voiceless voice.
She lifts another load onto her head
And as she walks away, she leaves behind
The music she chooses her life to be.
Grace taught me that day
How to sing.

14 comments:

Anonymous said...

well, u shud actually publish this poem in some magazine ... jus loved it!!when i read it for the first time. May be u shud start wring new poems instead of the usual stuff u blog everyday.

Anonymous said...

goodness harli, i read ur poem today properly... u write good... must get it noticed by the rite ppl....

sailor said...

hey... busy no new blogs as of yet???...

harlequin said...

thank u, anonymous!! and u too, nidhin!

THE UNDISPUTED GENIUS said...

swishy swahshy klieeze maloney.


yes. nice.


*dances with grace*

harlequin said...

grace? GRACE??
who are u trying to kid??

JollyRoger said...

Hey, pretty neat!

Anonymous said...

Sweat driven air. Voiceless voice.Etc

Nice incorporation of nuances!:)

This is hamsini,btw!

Anonymous said...

hey...your poem is toooo good...reading your blog after a long time.

harlequin said...

thanks..anonymous?? who is this?

david said...

Hey your poem on grace is too good.... really swayed me into the words... Keep it up

harlequin said...

thanks, dave!

Dave said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
Aditya said...

stumbled on ur blog, good stuff, I love posts like this one, more of a thought than a poem, and I like it more for that. I would suggest broadening your layout, because the longer posts can be much easier to read that way, very good stuff anyhow..