I herald the change in me

weather keeps pace writing on leaves

sprinkled till the far end of my horizon


I write another fragrant sentence

scent of these words fills my bosom


I fit my feet into shoes made from dried petals

I walk on clouds

be it ninth or seventh

it matter not a long as I stay intoxicated


for the moment I open my eyes

all I see is the  baritone that belongs to you


heart that walks on pavement

lives by words unspoken


poems that give birth to themselves

get conceived during predicating hours…


Pritpal Kaur on FacebookPritpal Kaur on GooglePritpal Kaur on Twitter
Pritpal Kaur
Pritpal Kaur
A television journalist turned writer I have been writing short stories and poetry for almost twenty five years. Masters in Physics and Education, turned to Television journalism and gradually shifted to full time writing. Taught physics for a year at University of agriculture. Meanwhile worked for All India Radio as announcer. Reported for “Parakh” and later worked with NDTV. Got into professional writing somewhere along the line. Have also produced documentaries for television and radio.