The Fireflies of Reminiscences

Looking at the full moon brings back so much

Can you recall darling?

How roses looked mysterious in the


I dreamt to be your muse once

Only in red dress

And you knew why

Our fantasies were never less adorable

Than our realities

In my memory, oh darling

We are still together

Like a couple dancing eternally

In the ballroom

What is most beautiful about memories

The certainty of occurring

Your kind voice is long gone

My sweetheart

Only echoes are ringing in the ears

I know my heart has better memories

than my mind

Suddenly I open my fist and

Let go of all the fireflies

Of reminiscences

My eyes start showering

My burning heart

Handful of pearls roll down

My face and I feel the odd coolness

Some tears are dismal for losing you

And others are glad for loving you.

Poem by Ruqia Ismat

August 16, 2022.


What Made You Kiss Me?

What made you kiss me?

I am still wondering

I saw it coming

When the sweet mellowness surrounded

Your eyes

That followed a tenderness

Spreading all across your countenance

Wait, darling, wait

Let me, cherish it

Even more now

Yes, it was abrupt

A pleasant surprise

But I wish I could return it

The way I got it

Now I can only replay it

Over and over again

My mind amazes me

With it’s delicate efficacies

Note. Poem by Ruqia Ismat

Saturday, Aug, 13, 2022.


Always Return to Me

Image from pexels .com

When life betrays you

Always return to me

When you are lighter than an

autumn leaf

And the winds carry you

From place to place

Darling, return to me

When all your looks are gone

And your body laughs at you

Return swiftly to me

I am, yes I am your home

Then come back to me

When you have nothing to give

You will find me waiting for you

Now, you may play around

When you lose this game

Find your refuge in me

Darling , let me be your eternal

Lodging and peace

Because I love the man inside you.

Ruqia Ismat. August, 10. 2022.


When I Miss You!

Image from pexels. Com

Darling, when I miss you as hell

Logic and rationale have lost their spell

The wisdom has left my side and went to hide

My intellect looks timid, then screams for disguise

I yearn for your beloved countenance and ache for your glorious voice

The prudent mind yet mocked at when heart made that odd choice

Your absence, darling shreds my spirit

I see it disintegrating bit by bit

Now I wonder if your recollections can deliver me from this hit?

The agonising moments linger with such a sluggish pace

Don’t I deserve some compassion or grace?

The clock ticks in a sinister and bizarre tone

The world has never been sufficiently known

Life is an enormous and scary game

You, me or nobody else is to blame

For sure, they list me as a lunatic in love

Darling I smile, then embrace all the above

Poem by Ruqia Ismat

Sunday, 7 August, 2022.

Good Day to you my dear kind fellows. Until now I am sure you know what kind of person I am. I came to this world mostly to cherish God s art. It’s so much in abundance that I don’t have even that much time and energy.πŸ’“πŸ₯ΊπŸ₯°πŸ™β€οΈπŸ’•πŸ’—

Anyway here is my Delicate miss Moth. She came to my living room. I took her photo session. I promised to write a nice description about her Muslin gown.

Her amazing gown is made by Almighty Himself. So it’s well fitted, perfect for all seasons, washable, air dry, self cleaned and all that.

What about the designing. Ok I describe from inside out. The body of moth is bright orange. So accordingly her inner layer of gown is wrinkled and pleated like a lingerie. The outer layer is even more delicate and lighter in color tone.

Her gown has inky print, with delicate black streaks with black leafy dots. Enough now. Thanks for reading.πŸ’“πŸ₯°πŸ™β€οΈπŸ’•πŸ’—

Happy new week my dear kind fellows. God bless you always .πŸ™πŸ’“πŸ’•

The inspiration I took from several vintage pieces of art. Then I created this oriental girl. My mixed media portrait.πŸ™‚πŸ™‚πŸ‘ŒπŸ™πŸ’“


What a lovely cow I have

She is sporty and naive

Her dear name is Molly

Why does mama calls her jolly?

Her squishy tail is way too long

But legs are short and strong

She dozes and yawns

Then sleeps at dawns

My cats are frightened by her “Moo “

Molly says ” send them to a zoo”

She gets mad and speaks louder

Poor cats shriek and meow harder

She then chases all my little chicks

Butts them with her head and strikes with a horn

My dog wonders, why was Molly even born

When it’s time for her grub

Plenty she wants also with a rub

Then she tries to squat and bow

She forgets that she is a cow

Her best friends are squirrels

With whom she dances and twirls

People who assume her vain and naughty

I call them sure shot haughty

When Molly gets furious at her shadow

She dashes blindly and stops at a meadow

Whoever has a life simple and bland

Must buy a cow and withstand

Sunday, August 14 th, 2022

Poem by Ruqia Ismat

Let us Swap Dolls

Let us swap our dolls again

Under the orange trees

My doll can live

with you only for a day

Must you keep the promise

This time

Let us go back to those carefree days

When we all wanted to

Be big girls, those gorgeous ones

Who fascinated us with pristine


Not any more !

Not any more!

Let us pick up our

paper goats and horses

Dear cousin , would you allow me to make

some paper toys for you too ?

We need to reclaim what adulthood

took from us

Our innocent hearts that knew

No pain

Those naΓ―ve minds , whose

only heroes were Mama and papa

Long summer days ,

Where have they gone ?

We need those orange trees and

our rag dolls

Playing with our humble toys

We used to forget time and space

Come on hold a doll’s wedding

My doll bride ,and your doll groom

We must play long until

our moms call us back for dinner

You play the green faerie and

I play the red one

No, I will not argue this time !

Sorry, we must throw our dolls into time bygone

our old moms are too fragile to call us back

They are waiting for our company and care

Note : I am 51 and my cousin 53 now . We both played together long, long ago , Those were our pre- school days , I described our whole games in the poem above . In my mind I can see us very clearly playing with toys . I can recall even her child face , (though I’ cant recall mine ). Playing together bonded our friendship until today.

The Heartbreak

”You can love me only if

you can take the heartbreak

He said with such a faithful voice

”Then what is the point of all of it

What do you choose now ?

I wish it was not true

Can we change the rules of life ? ;;”

”We cant live well enough

If we carry fearful hearts and if

Love is destined for a heartbreak

You and I are not to blame

Darling , don’t fear to love me ”

I assured him

”Instead , fear not to love ,

it is not prudent to stop

living today

for an impending death tomorrow

They were so afraid to trespass

that they stopped loving life

What is forgiveness then ?

We can never be perfect

We need to move onward

before we are no longer

you and me. ”

Note . poem by Ruqia Ismat

Fri, Aug 12, 2022.

My Lovely Darling

Your lips are the loveliest ones

Sweet enough to dissolve the bitterness of my life

Know this precious fact

Your face is heaven’s foyer

An elegant corridor to my soul

Does not matter who endorses

or denies

They say , stay away from the fire of flesh

Is it so dirty and sinful , darling ?

Is it ?

Even when love is the essence of life ?

Are not we both made of flesh ?

Are not we born of divine love ?

Why does love carry all the burdens

of life ?

Love is the pulsating passion of the universe

Oh, how intoxicating your eyes are ?, my darling

The lips that know your sweetness

Can never be bitter again

You always , draw my soul with a single breath

Until I feel floating in the air

Until our hearts peacefully synchronize

Until there is no me , and no you

The divinity of love simply purifies

our souls

All the doubts from our minds

are lifted off

Whisper , my name one more time

I want to hear from your lips

The passage from your heart to mine is the

most adorable one

You can lift me from my lowest

My lovely darling

That is the invariably the best.