Words do matter.

Our lives begin to end the day we become silent
about things that matter~ martin luther king
Words heal..
Words reassure..
Words express...

#19 Dreams of glory

Little boy, in deep slumber
With his head in mother's lap
Knows nothing of the warm stares
His mother's eyes emanate

Deep in slumber
He dreams of the glory
He learnt- life is joy
Friends are religion
Chocolates are devotion
Soon woke up and gathered
He learnt- life is service
Parents are deity
Hard work is reverence

Little boy, in deep slumber
With his head on father's shoulder
Unaware of the dreams
His father's eyes weave

He works, he moves
Toys left far behind
He walks the path alone
Aiming the bigger
Following the pursuit
Forfeiting the joys
He walked, he earned
He learnt- service is joy

Slumber broke long before
Achieving the goal
He proved the proficiency
His father now proud
Mother's eyes emit glee

Life is service
And service is joy
Parents are deity
Dedication is the code
He learnt and behold

46 Opinions:

Hey, Hi
nice to see you back into blogging after a real long time...
a beautiful post...so true to life...

The Silhouette...


It happens in the world.
Well penned.


you make him so real...

elegant imagery.
masterful delivery.


after ages you wrote again and as usual BEAUTIFUL .. when are you going to teach me the art of poetry



wonderfully expressed! and this is actually realistic, i see my younger bro learning and picking up things around so subtly and quickly..and then interpret on his own or the way my parents teach him.
loved this..u shud write more often deepika :)



wonderful.loved it


No wonder he'd be the apple of his parent's eye.
Nice post.

Blasphemous Aesthete



Journey from innocent childhood to grown up man penned down beautifully.

Take care


very nice..!!!! Simply so touching..!!!


Very true..
Would have loved if you would have described further to complete the whole cycle..
We live the life that has been defined long back, but then we are sane enough to find our share of happiness in it



Beautiful....the changes were shown in a nice flow....

Keep writing Deepika..:)


beautiful is the word....loved the way you have put it :)


Hey Deepika, this is so amazing. You have beautifully explained the journey of a person. Very impressive.


@Eon- Yup, trying to get back after the long unwanted break, though not fully back yet...

@Neeha- I tried showing it.. been there, done that.

@Jingle- he is real.. isn't he?

@Bikram sir- Lol, you give me photography classes first. In lieu i'll teach u rhyming ;)

@Sarah- I wished everybody could see through what you did. yes, they say girls have hard lives... I would say guys have it tougher, They have to tolerate us as well as themselves.. ;)

@Some unspoken words- firstly welcome here :) and thank you for the kind words.

@Shail- :)

@Anshul- Sure he'll be. and they deserve it :)

@Jack- I tried my best... glad you liked it.

@Dhawal- None can understand this better than a guy himself... It's for all of you hard-workers out there. :)

@Aakash- Sorry, i too feel its kind of incomplete.. i'll try extending it with few words and more description. thank you for the critics :)

@Valli- :)

@Saumya- I am glad u liked it :)

@Mak- Thank you sir.. :)


Just bumped into your page and fell for the words that really matter!!
Very very touching- Deepika.
Catch me on sushmaspage.


A boy very adorable.. :) Nice poem :)



a beautiful soul who follows his parents dreams as if it were his own, but doesn't it sometimes hurt to lose the dreams he weaved in slumber? soft...lovely as usual.


A very well penned collection of lines which collectively made the boy strong and a parent's sweetheart.


Interesting, different and meaningful. A young boy and the lessons of life weaved beautifully.


Hey I forgot to mention the award I made for you as my first few followers and blogs i enjoy.
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Did you read Sourav's Dream post and enjoyed it?

Now check this: You will be shocked to find how a blogger can stoop to the lowest level.



I found your blog on another blog. You write very well. Best wishes to all you do. Thank you for such lovely poetry! I too write poems you can have a look if you wish at my blog: /randomthoughtsncoffee.blogspot.com/


And I hope,
that the apple of the eye,
doesn't get crushed,
to be contained in an apple pie.

the burden of expectations,
and the burden of responsibilities,
are huge.


Glad to see you share at poets untied.


Very nice words, which form a journey through life. The relationships of parent and child, with good and bad.

Very nicely written words.


Very nice. Really really nice.


very bright piece.

well done.


Proud parents do expect a lot.
Nicely done.


the relationship of parent and child, less noisy than all the others, remains indelible and indestructible, the strongest relationship on earth..... Very well penned thoughts here by you.

BTW thanks for the visit and the follow, Plz do come again when i post my next.....


amazin write entire lyf wid its competetive reality all in a cypher...expectations never end...coz lyf doesnt let them end...loved it...:)


wow...journey of parent-child relationship just so beautifully expressed. loved it!!!


Hi Deepika,

Very nice poem. . emotions truely expressed. .thats how it goes. .our family and MOM is always so close to our heart.

lovely flow of words...

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But there are still my concerns which are still not met..so a Poll.

take care


Good one. Almost summed up ones life, the way it should be :)


True and touching words :)


Words age well in this piece. like a story woven in stages it reaches its climax very well. keep writing.


The little boy- the pride of his parents. Your ode touched a chord.

Especially loved this line - Friends are religion
Chocolates are devotion


wow!!!!! very very beautiful poem Deepika. The little boy is his parents' pride.


Tons of responsibility on my shoulders!! Can I take a nap :P


I really like the relative positions of the two people involved in your poem, layered upon that title, dreams of glory. It was an inspired touch. For what we seek, dream of is exactly what our mothers do too, for we both desire our happiness. Beautiful sentiments.

The opening verse eloquently sets the serene scene in the actual sense BUT also their positions in the literal sense, the manner that our mother's love, care and attention protects us from the harshness of the world. That same still image that can be scene throughout his life, for only when we move onto the next verse do we realize that he is not in fact a baby but a boy, an adult. You never give away his age but only the age of the dream so in this way both remain timeless. The dream, this scene and their union thereby become eternal. Beautifully done.

I loved how you flowed through those stages of those ages of man. I especially loved the manner you move from finding passion in joy to finding passion in hard work as is life. That happiness we gain from diligence though different than that carefree happiness of child hood, like Chocolates are devotion, is nonetheless rewarding. I love how you always manage to incorporate all aspects of a notion. Very impressive.

Then that wonderful use of 'little boy' which still does not give away his age, for he will always remain 'little boy' to his father. Wondrous touch, once again showcasing your talent. I loved how you changed the dream element in regards the father, giving the poem more depth as a whole. His mother just seeking to match what he dreamed of whereas the father seeking further, better and bigger than he would dare to wish for himself. A beautiful note.

I loved the line, Toys left far behind, very poignant.

Slumber broke long before, Achieving the goal, again eloquently written happy end, FOR in truth our victory lies in our hard efforts regardless of the results. Beautiful.

My favourite poem so far, diligently and proficiently written. Impressive as always. WIth love, Sabah


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Nice. Keep writing things like these. Don't let your fan visitors go empty handed.


@Anonymous Thank you for visiting. :)


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"How little a thing can make us happy when we feel that we have earned it" - Mark Twain