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Poems By Poet Vera Sidhwa  8/27/2014 12:08:16 PM
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Snowpowder and Ice

My happy hand reached up to shake,
A branch laden with snowpowder.
Indeed it seemed that God did make
The snow that on me showered.
Sheets of round ice,
Caused reflections all around it,
It caused the pretty fairy's smiling,
Face to be shining in it.

It seemed the snowpowder
Belonged to the fairies.
I could see her smooth skin,
worked with the flowerpuff it carries.
My breath so warm and hot blew forth
In a hazy twist,
And there it interminged and swooshed in the mist.

I knew this land was not for me,
It belonged to the fairies,
For the fairies' dances swirls and strolls,
Reflected in the ice mirrors they carried.
Vera Sidhwa




Hello white love, I talk to you once more.
See, I met this handsome man,
And he awaits me at my door.

Hello red anger, I talk to you again today.
You know that handsome friend?
Well, he just went away.

Hello blue sadness, I talk to you again.
I just came walking in,
From the grey trickling rain.

Hello green envy, I talk to you one more time.
He told me he loved another,
And I'll hate till the end of time.

Hello grey confusion, I talk to you again tonight.
I do not seem to see,
What is wrong and what is right.

Hello white love, I talk to you once more.
See, I met this handsome man,
And he awaits me at my door.
Vera Sidhwa



I Knew What You Knew

I heard all the things you thought,
And I learned what lay in your soul.
What laid in your soul,
Was a confused mass of brain electricity,
You not knowing what it meant. But I did.

I knew you so well, I could lipsink your words.
I knew your words better than you,
For I,
I what you knew.

We both loved each other
Vera Sidhwa



Children on the Streets of India

The girl of twelve told me,
A different but then the same story,
That boy of four told me,
His idea of what life should be.

But I different from them,
And yet the same.
Couldn't understand that life's game,
Couldn't even spare THEM,
These very newly arrived, happy and eager ones.

Their laughter, giggles and grin,
Their baby souls with hardly a sin,
Would eventually face such challenges,
That even many adults wouldn't.

These were children of another reality.
But these children were just like others,
With conditions laid harshly down on them,
And called to live up to them,
If they could.

The pavement children of India watched,
The world swirl around them.
Yet they were not a part of that motion.
Their own world stood still, every minute and hour.

These children's eyes looked far away,
That was not a child's mode.
These children's eyes looked hungry,
For that food in that beggar's bowl.

I stood next to them,
I sat next to them.
I looked at them.
Then I did not looked at them.

I looked at them.
They looked at me.

Then for that one quantum which seemed an eternity,
My heart's soul shrieked.
Walking away from them,
Never resolving their angst,
Not knowing how to.

I now saw from the
Salty wet curtains of my eyes,
A small boy running to me,
With arms full of garlands and presents.

He with no possessions,
Bestowed gifts on me.
He with no possessions,
Smiled and smiled gleefully.

With the hugs he received at the airport's tarmac,
I turned my back to him to board my plane.
Back to the U.S.,
Never again to be the same.

Then returning a year later with toys,
Candies and smiles for India's children again.
Vera Sidhwa
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Poems By Poet Vera Sidhwa