Moments of Wonder and Ponder

  Photo by Kees Streefkerk on Unsplash The Sea  Poem by Khadijah Dilshad I stretched my feet towards him; he touched them tenderly, His delicate hands soothed me so warmly. He gazed at me for a prolonged while, All I did was responded to him with a tranquilized smile. Slowly he calmly neared me, I sat still, taking in the experience that was noteworthy. I looked around, it was only me and him - not anyone else, He drove me closer to himself: And whispered the sweet melody of his surf.

Photo by Zuza Gałczyńska on Unsplash F ascinating it may seem, I gniting the sky - making it supreme! R eality - however- is painful... E verybody should be utterly shameful W ho hail this pathetic entertainment. O ur duty is the focus on the containment. R ealize the pain - and how many it K ills, the trauma animals face, don't fail to admit, S uch unjust behavior faces regretful consequences. - Khadijah Dilshad

  Remember?  By:  Khadijah Dilshad Remember those good days, When happiness over took my face? When grief was not there, When worry was so rare? Remember? Remember those good times, When days were covered by the brilliant ray of sunshine? Remember the clucks and plucks of the chickens that were once chicks, And the sweet tuxedo cat that used to lick? Remember? Remember those good times, When creativity was the only source that helped us get up, revive and climb? Where family as absent, And how everyone frowned when we spoke in our different accent? Remember? Remember those sad times? When we used to be drowned in the sour limes? When sickness befell her, And we came to realize who cares for sure? Remember? Remember those sad times? When fights used to dim all the happy lights? Remember? Remember? Remember the sour and smiles? I surely do, and they last at all times…

  Photo by Sincerely Media on Unsplash Stolid Grandmother She is genial in her own ways, It is shown in obscure traits, Yet- you could sense it distinctively. Certain behaviors make her loathe others,  Such as being delinquent, disobedient, or disorderly. If she notices one's good courtesy, Even if she's beyond merry - A compliment you wouldn't hear. It's rare. But at heart, she's more than pleased. It's seldom to hear a praise of happiness for a meal prepared with delight and care, Again, it's rare. She praises you in her heart. Her feelings are unknown. Never to be put out. That's my grandmother. - Khadijah Dilshad

  When Will It Grow Again? You grow all about, I've seen your sprout, Grief overtook me soon then, I wondered 'when', "When were your leaves going to grow again?" As they were dying off because of no sun, But soon I realized it is all lame, Seeing the rain go away,  I saw the sun's rays- upon you - whilst you fade. Soon after you were gone... All I did was waited, I got three more; that grew over an abandoned lawn, It made me elated. Realized I'm lucky, Soon gratitude overtook me. Khadijah Dilshad

 Rain Photo by Anant Jain on Unsplash The sky was filled with a lovely azure blue. The clouds were pregnant with water, holding tight their filled stomachs, trying to provide everyone a clue. People were busy, with their distractions and chores. Ants scurried passing nosy sparrows, running with bits of food to their tiny secure homes. Squirrels nibbled acorns that were half-eaten. The heavy clouds bursted as if they were beaten, people ran past each other, some popped colourful umbrellas, and others sheltered their heads with their unlucky hands. The rich were fortunate to have a home, while the poor shivered in clay huts, witnessing their roofs gradually expand. The street dogs ran with crouched backs, their fluffy coat was wet and useless. The nosy sparrows found the answer to why the ants scurried by, but having no time to think of that, they flew hurriedly to their nests, protecting their eggs. Puddles left dark brown sand dregs. The fish laughed and chuckled seeing the rain...

  Head leaning on knees, Hand - dying for rescue, Eyes blinking in confusion. Pen shaking, Mind racking. Brain quivering; Trembling. Confusion with blurriness. ... Once the brain rolls from the stairs, Oh, yes! Studying from where? Upstairs! Just let me know who even cares? Neuron breaking into bits from that mind-boggling sight, It breaks from all those hits. The room was bright, Yes, it was, yes, it has, from all what? A math sum. - Khadijah Dilshad

                                                                     Night The hushed serene night is dull and soundless.     Noiseless, peaceful.                                                     The darkness of soot-black spreads through,   None is up, except a few. The lonesome owl hoots, Rain pours down into the trees' roots, The little bird's nests are warm and cozy.  The outside lights are dim and mothy.    Cats wait to catch their prey,       While mice scurry down a pile of hay. The tranquil night passes by,      As the vibrant stars light the sky,         As a decoration fo...

A mini-saga is a narrative of exactly 50 words.The objective of a mini-saga is the create sympathy and a sense of amusement. The best mini-sagas have rhythm too, a satisfactory sound and a shape to the sentences. If one can't get to 50, compress words by dashes and turn them in to a compound adjective. Mini-saga #1. "Your're a hard nut!' "Your're a hard nut!" she said as she hit me the third time! she's definitely doing a crime! I feel my water pour through, I'm hit by a wicked shrew! Scrapped - my shell is thrown in a garbage-crowd, pretty sure I'm never to be found. I'm such an unlucky coconut! Mini saga #2. ' 'Grow baby,grow!'' I'm placed in the dusty ground, covered with a huge soil mount. Water is gingerly poured on me. I'll grow up to be a big tree! I hear a soft voice talk to me, saying : ''Grow baby!''. I'll become someone she will always want to show, a beautiful tree that will grow!

سلام سلام It's Hanah here, I 'm supposed to write my own poem with the title 'It was long ago', which describes an early memory very simply, using the same format and devises as in the real poem It was long ago by Eleanor Farjeon.                                                               It was long ago                                                                                    By Hanah Dilshad                 A mother, (now old) is relating her memories of her daughter when she was small) A memory that flashed into my mind, shall I relate to you? Something that wouldn't m...

Grief at heart, shouldn't be that way, For it will lead you to the past days. Make a change, Cover your sadness with a happiness bandage! Find your way out, Let happiness sprout! Look for the future, and hope for happiness to take over you. You'll then see how it'll pass you through! - Khadijah Dilshad

  A story that explains a proverb is a kind of fable, which means a story with a moral, or lesson to be learned.                     There is no place like home                      One is most comfortable in one's own surroundings . Koco is from Australia, she had to relocate due to the Australian bush fires; here's her short story on how she found home back again.                                         Every one didn't like  Koco , nobody liked to befriend her, or talk to her, she just wasn't the right animal to be with. Koco was a strange creature, the only one in this whole reserve - nobody had ever seen a creature like her, and so they considered her extremely unusual. Koco was new to this habitat, she had left her habitat due to fires and so she found this ne...

  !هلا معكم هناء It's Hanah here. Well.....I didn't write on this blog for quite a time.... anyway today I'll be sharing with you a poem I composed as a project for school. Basically, I've gotta write a 'rhythmic poem', It has to be something that has a strong and distinctive sound or movement. I chose to write about a horse and here's my poem : THE RACE The dusty streets. Everybody's ready, Awaiting in an open field, Horses all lined up, focused through; A feeling of frisson creeping, am I steady? The starting barrier opens out Everybody's screaming! Am I focused In such a tumult? Tabdak...tabdak, trotting and plodding. Cantering, galloping, and advancing! Faster and faster, much challenging. Speeding,                                          and scudding.....phew! Prancing and hurrying...                 Hurtling straight throu...