This prompt was a suggestion by Jayashree Pisharody and we loved reading the numerous poems that were inspired by this poem of hers.
Congratulations to all the winners: (Top 3 highlighted)
The petrichor took me back,
To those wonderful days,
When apartments were unheard of
And we had lots of space to play.
The monsoon brought with it,
Some moments to be cherished.
Oh! How I wish, I had a time machine,
To go back to those times.
Off I went to school,
In my new attire,
Hoping that my dear rain,
Would drip down and kiss me bye.
The puddles were fun to play,
Though I feared a speeding car.
The paper boats that I set sail,
Made me Popeye, the sailor man.
I remember waking up at dawn,
Just to see if my boat has
Sailed fay away, or,
Just sank down the drain.
My thoughts took a jolt,
As the pitter patter hit the panes,
Off I rushed to the clothesline,
Thinking of my paper boat again.
I sailed with you in the river of life,
In a boat that was filled with joyful mirth,
We danced and swayed in harmony,
And dwelled in a state of ecstasy,
We braved the storms,
And fought the tides,
As we ebbed and flowed in synchrony.
But Alas! One day you left the boat,
It stood marooned by the hands of fate,
Like a paper boat it sunk deep inside,
I sunk with it without you by my side.
When rains came splashing down
And schools were closed in town
You and me put on our raincoats and boots
Out we go dancing in the rain without a hoot
Paper boats we would race
Running after it to keep a trace
Life was wonderful as kid
Play and fun was all i did
As we grow old
And are no more bold
Life seems uncertain and slow
Like the paper boat we made flow.
Apprehension and doubts filled her mind,
Had her writing reached a spot blind?
Oh, the fear of reaching a writer’s block,
Maybe, finally at her door knocked.
Writing is a work in progress,
So unpredictable, like a game of chess.
The moves by a pen or on a board,
Must be instinctive to rule the floor.
To write is to flounder in the abyss,
Sometimes it’s a bull’s eye, sometimes a stumble in the pit.
Inspiration ridden paper boat,
May also sink and not necessarily float.
To stay ahead in this hit and miss game,
Its imperative to uncertainties and doubts tame.
Though fragile and diaphanous
They bestow an innate sense of hope
With a heart full of dreams
I sail my paper boat,
Coddling my baggage of memories.
Shattered and bruised
My feeble heart is still clinging on to the yore.
Upon nightfall the paper boat sinks
Alas! My baggage of memories has bogged it down.
The lifeless paper boat
Yearns for the soft touch of those puny hands
Amidst the crescent smiles and the starry sky
Awaiting a mythical fairy granting my wish.
Returning those puny hands, that made the paper boat swish.
I was just little boy,
Playing with my little toy,
Paper Boats was full of joy,
Sailing with a foy.
Drizzled through my mind,
Was the memories of my paper boat,
Going with the wind,
Through the waters afloat.
Childhood was a time,
Worth than a dime,
Where the little moat,
Sailed my paper boat.