New poem for my late grandmother Quotes, Status, Photo, Video

Bhagyashree Jena

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White Its too late, whether you are giving all your efforts. Its too late, whether you are counting your fingers. Its too late, whether you are trying your best. Its too late, whether I'm at the roads last. ©Bhagyashree Jena #its too late

White Its too late, whether you are giving all your efforts. Its too late, whether you are counting your fingers. Its too late, whether you are trying your best. Its too late, whether I'm at the roads last. ©Bhagyashree Jena #its too late

Sup_holster

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White What was it that escaped my sight? Sometimes veiled in moonlight, Sometimes hidden in the silence of past nights, Sometimes entwined in friends' tales, Sometimes inscribed in the pages of books, Sometimes obscured by the dust of the roads. It must have dwelled in my heart, Which is why my mind’s eyes could not discern it. If only I had seen it with the heart back then, But now, it seems, it is a moment too late. ©Sup_holster late #sad_qoute

White What was it that escaped my sight? Sometimes veiled in moonlight, Sometimes hidden in the silence of past nights, Sometimes entwined in friends' tales, Sometimes inscribed in the pages of books, Sometimes obscured by the dust of the roads. It must have dwelled in my heart, Which is why my mind’s eyes could not discern it. If only I had seen it with the heart back then, But now, it seems, it is a moment too late. ©Sup_holster late #sad_qoute

Krishnan

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White Grandma Stories I still love to hear those stories narrated by my grandmother. From the starting punch line of "Once upon a time...." to the exciting finishing statement, and finally, after that, they lived happily." I used to get engrossed in every nuance of her narration. I used to persuade her to narrate the Cinderella-type story many times. The way she used to begin was perfect, drawing me into her story. "Once upon a time, there used to be a pretty girl who often rested her heart, mind, and soul every evening on the steps of the porch of her house after doing all household chores dumped on her by her arrogant stepmother and sisters. She knew no prince would come out of nowhere and hold her hand before taking her away. It happens only in dreams. Still, she waits for someone who wouldn't come. She knows that she is bound to continue as a puppet here. But what if, one day, her waiting pays off?" Then my grandmother sighed deeply and expressed her wish as she looked at me: "You know, Krishna, I hope that, one day, the prince from her dream will arrive and rescue her from this hell. But none of us can predict the future." I then raised my head from her lap and looking at her eyes, I put forward my curiosity, "Will the prince arrive, Grandma?" "Even the gods cannot resist the glowing beauty that radiates from her, along with her pure heart—let alone a prince! Let's see." She remarked before continuing with her story! ©Krishnan #Grandma #grandmother #storytelling #Childhood #childhood_memories

White Grandma Stories I still love to hear those stories narrated by my grandmother. From the starting punch line of "Once upon a time...." to the exciting finishing statement, and finally, after that, they lived happily." I used to get engrossed in every nuance of her narration. I used to persuade her to narrate the Cinderella-type story many times. The way she used to begin was perfect, drawing me into her story. "Once upon a time, there used to be a pretty girl who often rested her heart, mind, and soul every evening on the steps of the porch of her house after doing all household chores dumped on her by her arrogant stepmother and sisters. She knew no prince would come out of nowhere and hold her hand before taking her away. It happens only in dreams. Still, she waits for someone who wouldn't come. She knows that she is bound to continue as a puppet here. But what if, one day, her waiting pays off?" Then my grandmother sighed deeply and expressed her wish as she looked at me: "You know, Krishna, I hope that, one day, the prince from her dream will arrive and rescue her from this hell. But none of us can predict the future." I then raised my head from her lap and looking at her eyes, I put forward my curiosity, "Will the prince arrive, Grandma?" "Even the gods cannot resist the glowing beauty that radiates from her, along with her pure heart—let alone a prince! Let's see." She remarked before continuing with her story! ©Krishnan #Grandma #grandmother #storytelling #Childhood #childhood_memories

Wangshilila Imz

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White rain rain go away little moaren wants to play rain rain go away come again another day.. ©Wangshilila Imz for my lovely baby boy

White rain rain go away little moaren wants to play rain rain go away come again another day.. ©Wangshilila Imz for my lovely baby boy

Himanshi Bharti

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White कुछ लोगों के मिलने का गम यूँ भी होता है, कि काश वो हमसे पहले मिले होते.. हमारे पल उनके लम्हों के दामन से जुड़े होते.. वक्त बिताते हम कुछ खास उनके साथ.. जो बीत गया हमारी बदनसीबी का; वो वक्त... उनके साथ जिये होते।। ©Himanshi Bharti #love_shayari for special one who came late in our life 🍂

White कुछ लोगों के मिलने का गम यूँ भी होता है, कि काश वो हमसे पहले मिले होते.. हमारे पल उनके लम्हों के दामन से जुड़े होते.. वक्त बिताते हम कुछ खास उनके साथ.. जो बीत गया हमारी बदनसीबी का; वो वक्त... उनके साथ जिये होते।। ©Himanshi Bharti #love_shayari for special one who came late in our life 🍂

Soni Renguntwar

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White I never pray to God for my own happiness, but for the first time, I prayed for his happiness. ©Soni Renguntwar #sawan_2024 for my hubby

White I never pray to God for my own happiness, but for the first time, I prayed for his happiness. ©Soni Renguntwar #sawan_2024 for my hubby

Schizology

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My My head is like a pinball game Bouncing from side to side Jumping up and then down It takes me on an amusement ride My mind is like a race track Thoughts travel round n round Frequently hitting the barriers So often that I've lost count My brain feels like it sparks Ready to spontaneously combust At any moment an explosion Will leave me with just dust Thoughts like a jack in the box, Turn the handle and surprise At the point of no returning This is what thinking comprises There may be a meltdown My reactors will burst The confusion will leak Unless I can get it reversed ©Schizology My #my #poem✍🧡🧡💛 #Mind

My My head is like a pinball game Bouncing from side to side Jumping up and then down It takes me on an amusement ride My mind is like a race track Thoughts travel round n round Frequently hitting the barriers So often that I've lost count My brain feels like it sparks Ready to spontaneously combust At any moment an explosion Will leave me with just dust Thoughts like a jack in the box, Turn the handle and surprise At the point of no returning This is what thinking comprises There may be a meltdown My reactors will burst The confusion will leak Unless I can get it reversed ©Schizology My #my #poem✍🧡🧡💛 #Mind

Anagha Ukaskar

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White My grandma used to say "Clothes tell story, A tale of what we have always been. They hold a beginning and the end And everything that's in between" Her cotton, soft Sarees are now keepsakes, They hold the happy rays of the sun, The times when she danced in beams, Those good old days of fun. The rough white patches on its edges Are badges of what she has earned, The freckles and marks of lifetime, Of hands that left no stone unturned. ©Anagha Ukaskar #love_shayari #naani #Grandma #grandmother #Aaji #poem

White My grandma used to say "Clothes tell story, A tale of what we have always been. They hold a beginning and the end And everything that's in between" Her cotton, soft Sarees are now keepsakes, They hold the happy rays of the sun, The times when she danced in beams, Those good old days of fun. The rough white patches on its edges Are badges of what she has earned, The freckles and marks of lifetime, Of hands that left no stone unturned. ©Anagha Ukaskar #love_shayari #naani #Grandma #grandmother #Aaji #poem