River of dolour

Teetering on the brink,

As if unsure and uncertain,

It totters.

Indecisive or may be hesitant

It reins in its dampness, and

Contracts into a moist orb,

Glistening like a drop of dew.

It lays there for a while


On the moist rim of emotions

Which churn in the bosom,

Kicking up a roiling maelstrom.

Then, as if mustering its courage

The driblet transcends the rim

And cascades down,

Trailing a damp path,

Like a river of elegiac dolour.

Finally…oh, finally,

The cauldron

Of this aggrieved heart of mine

Can bear no more, and I cry,

Subsiding into sobs.


By Sonal Singh

Image credit- Victoria_Borodinova via pixabay

About Sonal Singh

I believe that life is a repertoire of anecdotes. The various situations that we encounter, the many incidents of every day, the people we meet, our conversations with them; all make life a melange of tales. And, that is what I attempt to capture through my writing. My cooking is no different! It reflects my love for travel and my love for innovation. The kitchen is my happy place. So, even though by vocation I am a recruiter (www.rianplacements.com), by passion I am a writer, home chef and a hodophile.

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