Author: Anita Bacha

Creative and inspirational writer and poet, I lam also an addictive reader of novels, poetry and children story books. I am the author of Soul Poetry a book of inspirational poems, verses and quotes (2015) The Maker of Miracles (2006) and My Journey with God (2008) are narrations about my journey with my spiritual guru. My new poetry book INK Echo of life and love published by Éditions de L’Ocean Indien earlier this year (2019) in Mauritius, my birth country is a collection of love poems extolling the feelings and desires of women. The Princess and the Crow is my first story book for children ,released by Austin Macauley Publishers London in March 2019. I love to write. I guess my writing has a special cliché of island 🌴 life, natural,unpretentious and full of beauty.

Bouquet of Roses

Bouquet of roses

Dying in porcelain vase

Gross mediocrity

Anita Bacha

Dear readers, I have joined a group of ‘Haiku challenge ‘ on Twitter and today’s challenge is to write a haiku using the word ‘gross’. I love this challenge .Brainstorming, at times ,nerve racking it keeps me going .Hope you like this one . More are on the way.

Bouquet of roses 🥀

True to His Word

True to his word,

He was there, in the park,

Waiting for her,

She halted, looked around,

His words echoed in her ears,

In the morning gentle zephyr,

‘I will be there!’

‘I will be there for you!’

He cried out,

Last time they met and parted;

Stoic, handsome and shy,

Greener against the blue sky,

He smiled under its vast parasol;

The sight of him warmed her heart;

They talked,

They had so much to say to each other;

Then they fell into a deep silence,

It was not love,

It was not happiness,

It was a soul connection.

Anita Bacha

A tree

The Socks

The Socks
In coils like two cotton balls
Coated with dust
From under my bed
A brush stroke brought out the socks!
Forgotten
Abandoned
Consciously or unconsciously
The socks you left behind
Sad, blue
Filled with bitterness
The stare blank
The socks
I caught in my trembling hands
Gave me a lump in my throat
The socks recalled your being there
Curled against me in my bed
It was not a dream!
The socks made me a little scared
Fear the idea that you will never come back
To warm my bed
To cover me with delicious cuddles
The socks made me chuckle too
Giggle at the idea that I had never seen such large feet
Such big toes, teasingly tickling my feet
The socks revived in me the great happiness
These senseless moments
When we both laughed like kids
Happy to be together
Pleased that we had met
Pleased that we were in love!

Anita Bacha

The socks

Le Visiteur

Assis sur une chaise haute,
Grand,beau et silencieux,
Il tirait sur sa derniere cigarette:

 La pandémie battait son plein,

Il est arrivé tôt ce matin-là,

Il posa sur la table un sac des ravitaillements ;

Assis sur une chaise haute,

Grand, beau et silencieux,

Il tirait sur sa dernière cigarette ;

 Petite,

 Elle atteignait la hauteur de son front ;

 Le contour délicat de ses yeux,

Une minuscule fossette dans le menton

Et, ses narines sensuelles la captivaient ;

 Elle chassa amèrement

L’envie folle de serrer la tête de l’homme,

Contre son sein ,

De couvrir son visage basané des baisers ;

Elle aussi avait fait la guerre,

Mais la guerre de la vie ;

 Langoureuse,

Elle chercha longtemps dans son regard,

Un signe,

Une suspicion d’amour,

Rien, un vide,

Autrefois, il a connu l’amour,

L’amour qui trahit et qui fait mal,

L’amour qui tue,

Et il mourrait doucement ;

Elle mourrait aussi à force de l’aimer,

Incapable de déclarer son amour

A un homme sans âme.

Anita Bacha

Photo by Thau00eds Silva on Pexels.com