Home Literature/Poetry Tears in the rain – A bouquet of poems by Jyotirmaya Thakur

Tears in the rain – A bouquet of poems by Jyotirmaya Thakur

Tears in the rain – A bouquet of poems by Jyotirmaya Thakur
Tears in the rain - Pinterest image

The rain waits for my tears to fall, when clouds become dark and talk. My words write letters big or small, the wind carries all above in its walk.

Jyotirmaya Thakur, a renowned UK-based poet and writer, shares her three poems selected from her poetry collection   

Jyotirmaya Thakur - poet- Sindh CourierJyotirmaya Thakur, a retired principal, hailing from India and based in UK, is the author of twenty-six books. She is multi – genre award winning poet of more than 300 awards from literary and humanitarian organizations. A reviewer, translator, columnist, researcher, spiritual, social and environmental activist, she serves on various prestigious Committees as International Ambassador in many literary and humanitarian organizations. Her work has been published in more than 500 anthologies, magazines internationally and translated into many languages. She is invited to prestigious literary festivals as a special guest.
Tears in the rain - NightCafe Creator
Tears in the rain – Image Courtesy: NightCafe Creator


The rain waits for my tears to fall,

When clouds become dark and talk,

My words write letters big or small,

The wind carries all above in its walk.


The heaven seems deaf to my cries,

My heart sinks low in hope and sighs,

It is love which still in faith survives,

Although future seems dim in blatant lies.


Children beget all desires with their violence,

Birds and beasts dwell in timid resemblance,

Men and women have lost their true essence,

Adam and Eve dead in pretentious presence.


Equality and disparity are now big issues,

Identity of soul is in grave danger pursuits,

Exquisite handkerchiefs are now paper tissues,

All legal rights are violated with misuse.


Seniors want to restart after retirement,

Restricted in their ways by new generation,

Adolescence skyrocketing in competition,

 Being young and wealthy the only destination.

[Canvas of the Soul]


maxresdefaultTHE END OF A SONG

You are the end of my love song.

You are a joy of love at first sight.

The melody of hope in my eyes.

Like a white lily, honey moon delight.

My song is the air of charms I write,

You are my first &last symphony prize.


You set my words of love to rhyme,

Praise of beauty is tuned to thine.

Sounds double to single, lips bliss mingle.

Leaves long hours and songs for flowers

Day and night wary as our harp jingle.


Rose with thorns in sad, singing weather,

Green or gray, red roses grow hither.

You are my queen of pleasure forever.

I am your eternal song of leisure.

The page at your feet all day long,

You are the end of my love song.

[Melody of Love]


4250988714741_081-10-216_10216THE TREASURE CHEST

When I was a girl of seven a wooden chest was presented,

For me to keep my clothes and anything I treasured,

It was a pleasure to have a private space reserved,

A box in which I could collect things that mattered.


There were gifts from my grandfather’s precious collection,

Some from grandmother’s favorite selection,

Some by my aunt’s and uncle’s affection,

The most priceless were notes of my mother’s reflections.


Whenever we went on holidays on vacations,

I collected mementos from visits for remembrance,

Pine cones, fur coats, dry leaves or petals from hill stations,

Stones and pebbles from beaches, nothing sensational.


A child’s fantasy and dreams are very simple,

Nature and Earth has treasures ample,

Every season had beautiful token of samples,

Feathers of birds, or wooden shafts often trampled.


When I grew up to move forward in life,

The box was dumped in basement inside,

Abandoned for long till my parents died,

Lost in transition it still survived.


My children with cousins in curiosity search,

Found the box on the underground turf,

Opened the rusted lock in a lurch,

Enchanted at talismans of past submerge.


The box was dragged with great curiosity,

With pride exhibited their sudden discovery,

Excited dragged me in discreet secrecy,

They made me revisit my childhood fantasy.


History repeated itself through my own progeny,

They distributed the spoils in complacency,

As I looked at all the stuff with silent intensity,

Tears rolled down replete in mystical prophecy.

[From her book – SILHOUETTES OF LOVE]


Jasna Gugić - Croatia- Sindh CourierReceived the poems from Jasna Gugić, a renowned poetess from Zagreb, Croatia



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