Poetry corner | Sunday Observer

Poetry corner

17 October, 2021

Wonderstruck by Love

Even during the darkest of days,
she was wonderstruck by her love,
For she knew she would find him someday
His voice was as calming as the wind when the angels sing
The little buds caressed by the soft dew
Pulling the sky close and wrapping his breath in mine
I want to be your one and only!
Two hearts entangled by the heavenly bliss,
Ringing the bells of love in the autumn air
Yearning for the sweetest place in your arms,
My heart beats only for you!
Whispers of love and care
Painting the colours of our romance…
Inside me this feeling grows,
With sun-kissed lips, letting our love consume the night!
And when they peek into my heart,
I want them to see
That the colors of our love won’t be dimmed
As she was the ‘infinite’ one!
Being with you feels like,
Taking a sip of eternity…
Surrounded by a million shooting stars
Shining above our one true love!

Words - Ravihansi Palliyaguruge


Only Death

There are cemeteries that are lonely,
graves full of bones that do not make a sound,
the heart moving through a tunnel,
in it darkness, darkness, darkness,
like a shipwreck we die going into ourselves,
as though we were drowning inside our hearts,
as though we lived falling out
of the skin into the soul.

Death arrives among all that sound
like a shoe with no foot in it,
like a suit with no man in it,
comes and knocks,
using a ring with no stone it it, with no
finger in it,
comes and shouts with no mouth,
with no tongue, with no
Nevertheless its steps can be heard
and its clothing makes a hushed sound,
like a tree.

I’m not sure, I understand only a little,
I can hardly see,
but it seems to me that its singing has the color
of damp violets,
of violets that are at home in the earth,
because the face of death is green,
and the look death gives is green,
with the penetrating dampness of a violet leaf
and the somber color of embittered winter.

But death also goes through the world dressed
as a broom,
lapping the floor, looking for dead bodies,
death is inside the broom,
the broom is the tongue of
death looking for corpses,
it is the needle of death looking for thread.

Death is inside the folding cots:
it spends its life sleeping on the slow mattresses,
in the black blankets, and suddenly breathes out:
it blows out a mournful sound that swells the sheets,
and the beds go sailing toward a port
where death is waiting, dressed like an admiral.

Words - Pablo Neruda


The pandemic germ

It has been in the news since the beginning of 2019...
There is no end yet…
Something invisible to our eyes that led to the lockout of almost all the powerful countries in the world…
That led people to keep their mouths shut..
It taught people to stay clean often..
This is something that has contributed to the reduction of all flights around the world
It taught people to use online education..
This tiny thing caused some famous people to wipe-out from this world..
It taught people the importance of oxygen
Different types of viruses come under different names
We still do not know what can come next in addition to Delta
Although vaccines have come, there is still no confidence in complete protection..
No country in the world can get rid of this yet
Although at first this hurt the elderly, now the tiny virus does not see the age..
When will this ruthless virus end?

Words - Dr Meran Keshawa Ediriweera