Sunrise sweetness

There’s beauty in the silver singing river, there’s beauty in the sunrise in the sky, but none of these and nothing else can match the beauty that I remember in my true love’s eyes.

Bob Dylan

Lost, yesterday, somewhere between sunrise and sunset, two golden hours, each set with sixty diamond minutes. No reward is offered for they are gone forever.

Horace Mann

What breaks in daybreak? Is it the night? Is it the sun, cracked in two by the horizon like an egg, spilling out light?

Margaret Atwood

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“Sunrise sweetness” by Blaga Todorova

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“Wrapped in blue” by Blaga Todorova

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© 2012  Broken Sparkles

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Jewel of Nile

Jewel of Nile

Jewel of Nile in my vision, the island of Philae I visit,
secrets to read, distant sigh after naked spirits.
Temples with no God or Goddess, tremble inside.
Mysteries, papers from the tombs are they all gone?

Someone said, life and delight are there, but where?
Can I make the silent spaces, the walls to speak?
Is the key in the never falling rain? Beauty and purity,
do they float in the air, forgotten for centuries?

Is there one last, sacred lotus left,
with blue leaves to close the darkness at night,
with mauve glare to restore the sunlight at dawn?
Is there one last lily in the water survived?

Sand and wind blending with flirty fragrance,
the rebirth of ancient Isis blooming,
in the river sleeping I see it, is it real?
The power of the sacred, blue lotus in my hand.

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“Blue lotus” by Angel Kirilov

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© 2012  Broken Sparkles

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The heart-collector by Kavita Rao

India has been in my thoughts for the past couple of years, the urge and the desire to be able to visit her and to see with my own eyes, all the places I’ve read about is something that hunts me every time I have a quiet time enough to let my dreams control me. Mumbai is the city I would like to see first. I often search the net for videos or articles to learn more about this enchanting place, but whatever the story or the pictures, it will never be the same experience as the actual, face to face meeting with the charming lady Mumbai. My very good friend, Kavita Rao, had a poem posted about her home town Mumbai on her blog How I write, is mine…How you read, is yours, and I absolutely loved it, longing even more to “Drown in her sweltering heat”, to add my heart gladly to the collection of her admirers. Here are Kavita’s thoughts and poem, enjoy!

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Kavita -**Mumbai, Bombay, call her what you may, she will always remain what she has always been – a mystic lover, a heart stealer, a soul quencher! For a person (like me) born and raised in her arms, there exists no better place on this fabulous planet (other than NYC perhaps)! This poem is my heart’s snapshot at how I felt about her when I lived there, how I felt about her on my most recent trip there, how I feel about her now, and how I will always feel about her! They say good things are better shared… So here I am, sharing a little bit of my Bombay with all of you… **

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“Marine Drive- Mumbai” by Kavita Rao

The heart-collector

  by Kavita Rao

With her translucent veins
invariably spilling commuting sighs
With her Arabian waves
magically forming a quixotic mist
With her thumping heart
thrusting life into her slender body
With her sultry skin
attracting a rush of excited nerves
With her monsoon scent
injecting doses of moist earth
She stands there
– poised –
Eyes inviting
Arms outstretched
Smile bewitching

And all one can do is
Succumb
to her incomparable charm
Drown
in her sweltering heat
Melt
before her yielding embrace
While only hoping to chant
the syllables of her tuneful name
…Bom-bay…

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