<p>Windows to worlds that lie far beyond our own,<br />Woven dextrously like a tapestry<br />Whose threads enmesh myriad marvels <br />With pens that run on enchanted ink <br />Each far-faraway tantalizingly unattainable<br />But beckoning,<br />Beckoning to me always.<br /> Words that urge us to simply let go<br />To let go of our mundanely humdrum existence<br />And to lose ourselves in a different world<br />To forget those boundaries separating reality from fiction<br />That hang bleakly, like mist in the air.<br />Poems that paint pictures in your mind<br />In hues of sepia and Technicolor<br />Awakening feelings that had hitherto lain latent,<br />Lost in the ebb and flow of emotions <br />Until words; words sprinkled with poetic passion<br />And garnished with flecks of magic<br />Begin to lay siege to your thoughts<br />And induce you to believe<br />To believe in the power of verse.<br />Words that egg you on<br />To peer at the shrewd tabby next door<br />To check if she isn’t really McGonagall in disguise<br />Or to ascertain, in the privacy of your bedroom<br />Whether with a complacent snap of your fingers<br />You could summon a djinni <br />To take you to the Wayless Woods<br />Where the fire-elves and water-nymphs dance,<br />Or to the deserts of Arabia<br />Where the winds, <br />Saturated with the coarse harshness of the dust-smattered land<br />Skim fleetingly and impartially across our headscarves<br />While camels snort crossly in the distance.<br />Books that are thresholds to bliss<br />Beguilingly bewitching, <br />diabolic and wily <br />Wrenching you away from the stark dreariness of truth<br />And thrusting you into a world that will never be your own<br />Snaring you with their bewitching lies<br />Knit intricately from the choicest of gobbledygook.<br />They will imprison you within the confines of their tales<br />Until you are left to wander the labyrinth of exotic imaginings<br />All by yourself.<br /><br /><em>Malvika <br />Cluny Convent school</em></p>
<p>Windows to worlds that lie far beyond our own,<br />Woven dextrously like a tapestry<br />Whose threads enmesh myriad marvels <br />With pens that run on enchanted ink <br />Each far-faraway tantalizingly unattainable<br />But beckoning,<br />Beckoning to me always.<br /> Words that urge us to simply let go<br />To let go of our mundanely humdrum existence<br />And to lose ourselves in a different world<br />To forget those boundaries separating reality from fiction<br />That hang bleakly, like mist in the air.<br />Poems that paint pictures in your mind<br />In hues of sepia and Technicolor<br />Awakening feelings that had hitherto lain latent,<br />Lost in the ebb and flow of emotions <br />Until words; words sprinkled with poetic passion<br />And garnished with flecks of magic<br />Begin to lay siege to your thoughts<br />And induce you to believe<br />To believe in the power of verse.<br />Words that egg you on<br />To peer at the shrewd tabby next door<br />To check if she isn’t really McGonagall in disguise<br />Or to ascertain, in the privacy of your bedroom<br />Whether with a complacent snap of your fingers<br />You could summon a djinni <br />To take you to the Wayless Woods<br />Where the fire-elves and water-nymphs dance,<br />Or to the deserts of Arabia<br />Where the winds, <br />Saturated with the coarse harshness of the dust-smattered land<br />Skim fleetingly and impartially across our headscarves<br />While camels snort crossly in the distance.<br />Books that are thresholds to bliss<br />Beguilingly bewitching, <br />diabolic and wily <br />Wrenching you away from the stark dreariness of truth<br />And thrusting you into a world that will never be your own<br />Snaring you with their bewitching lies<br />Knit intricately from the choicest of gobbledygook.<br />They will imprison you within the confines of their tales<br />Until you are left to wander the labyrinth of exotic imaginings<br />All by yourself.<br /><br /><em>Malvika <br />Cluny Convent school</em></p>