NaPoWriMo 27

So the tortoise is still at Prompt 27: 

We challenge you to pick a card (any card) from this online guide to the tarot, and then to write a poem inspired either by the card or by the images or ideas that are associated with it.

This is the card that I picked : 

I was not sure how to go about it. I began by actually describing what I saw and then it evolved into a message about saving the Earth. I don't think it was a conscious process. So this is what I came up with :

Daughter of The Sun

Where has she gone?

Did we send her on exile?

Seated she was

On scarlet velvet cushions

Wearing a tiara of starry gems

Robed in satin silky sheen

Falling about her stockinged feet

in downy ripples

A benign smile adorned

her firm and gentle countenance

eyes swimming with kindness and resilience

The shield of Venus abounding

in love, vitality and courage

lay by the side

Holding aloft a marble sceptre

Hand raised in blessing

Bestowing Power and fortitude

Bequeathing lushness of grain

And abundance of water

We need to find her and reclaim her

We need to cajole, coax , convince her 

Never again shall we disregard her

Never again shall we plunder her

We need to bring back her regime

Before the day of Doom

Gains upon us!

NaPoWriMo Day 26.

Had been traveling. The poetry challenge is over, but I wish to try out the various prompts. Today I attempt this one:

"Write a poem that includes images that engage all five senses. Try to be as concrete and exact as possible with the “feel” of what the poem invites the reader to see, smell, touch, taste and hear."

And then I was reminded of a translation that I did of my cousin's poem a few months back. Since I feel that this poem is replete with the 5 sensations, I present the same. The original was in Malayalam. 

Do you converse with the walls?
They may have no arms, but they can
bind you fast between their expansive, sleek veneers.

Keep up the chatter and
They might end up reaching out to our dialect
and we might end up living in theirs
And some might pierce through our warmth
Imbuing their concrete chill…

Be warned though of Ancient walls –
They might ensconce you deep
into their decrepit slumbering leaves
Taunt you with memories of bygone youth
Making you shudder in chagrin
Before their towering vainglory

However…
The new pristine walls through a forgotten switch
may gently graze your brows
with sizzling current;
Caress your forehead with
the dust off a Picture frame

A distressing odour of the paint
clings all over
and whispers into your ears: “WE”!