Sonal Singh On Sonal's Table

On A rain sodden morn Under stormy overcast grey skies the winds are ominous, moaning, yelping, and shrieking their path through the statuesque pines howling and unleashing their onslaught Image – Will Swann via unsplash This poem has been written in a reverse nonet format. A nonet is a relatively …

  If I speak now, would you hear me? Would you really listen, cock an ear And put down your paper, turn to me And ask, ‘what is it? I’m all ears.’ If I speak now, would you look at me? Would you look at me, raise an eyebrow Smile …

Blow gently O wily wind as you pass through my lands My child sleeps in gentle slumber. Do not rustle; do not swish as you pass by my house My child rests his wearied bones. As the night darkens and rain looms in the heavens Do not disturb, let my …