The bluest of the blue falls and slides

over rooftops and caresses the walls with love.

Lamplight, yellow and gold

in the bright fortnight falls on the trees

and the trees declare, "Look at us; we are green!"

One by one, randomly, the lights in the windows

challenge the moon and the stars

to selectively fall on the couple

walking on the lonesome road

and define their shadows better than what the moon could do

on that memorable autumnal night.

Sushama Karnik.

Paradigma d'Arte

oersoptnSdu8 g504t1:tf00l1 a137 gsggmMclg Au27h8c4612Agt6361  · 

André Poffé (Belgium, 1911-1990) – "Couple in the Street at Moonlight"

__________________________________

•٠•● Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ ●•٠•˙GOOD NIGHT˙•٠•● Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ ●•٠

#paradigmadarte

No insights to show

Boost a post

All reactions:

6Françoise Dhulesia, György Fülöp and 4 others

7

Like

Comment

Share

7 comments

• Françoise Dhulesia

  Loving this atmosphere of an almost naive serenity and silence! A very intimate feeling.

  • Like
  • Reply
  • Hide
  • 1w
• Active

  Sushama Karnik

  The bluest of the blue falls and slides over rooftops and caresses the walls with love. Lamplight, yellow and gold in the bright fortnight falls on the trees and the trees declare, "Look at us; we are green!" One by one, randomly, the lights in the win… 

  See more

  

  • Like
  • Reply
  • 1w
  Françoise Dhulesia replied

   ·

  4 Replies
• Active

  Kuldeep Singh

  Love it! 

  • Like

 Once upon a fall

they happened to meet

on a lonesome road

lined by trees and beneath their feet

a carpet of gold. The sun was smiling warm

as the two exchanged pleasantries.

The weather, O so good, and children,

O they are doing well.

The youngest is still not in school,

and the eldest doing fine.

Come, sit awhile; the one said dangling her foot

as she sat in an idle manner on the bench.

Some other time, she said. I have to reach home soon.

And thus they shared the moments

on a certain afternoon

when the season of fall made everything feel so good.

Sushama Karnik.

2 Years Ago

See your memories

Art Infinitus

  · 

John Atkinson Grimshaw (1836-1893)

#johnatkinsongrimshaw #artinfinitus

No insights to show

Boost a post

All reactions:

6Françoise Dhulesia, György Fülöp and 4 others

 Restless, the sea calls. I smell the sea.

Tired of writing words,

I just want to sleep. A sleepwalker dreams

a dream of walking on the waves of the sea.

The salty air, the smell of fish,

the rocks whose bosom cradles the surf,

and the rain carrying the steamy air,

every night like a haunted soul

I wake up to their call.

A rowboat tied to a log,

I feel the tug of the sea.

Recall the changes in the shades of blue,

and I surrender the rhetoric of the empty words to the endlessness,

the rhythm of the gorge of the sea.

The irony of the madness of the urge to sing

in the presence of a vast tide of an awesome dream,

the dream when the madness is swallowed by the quietude of the sea.

Sushama Karnik (c)

May 30, 2017

All reactions:

16Sonali Dalal, Sem Xtz and 14 others

2

Share