Poet’s pangs. Instead of raiding the fridge or the kitchen cabinet, I dabbled with words. Still hungry, but I can now sleep.

Result: A beautiful creative; and a hugging piece. The poem travels from white to the blues and finally the violet. ( The season to the sinking feeling to the hopes, metaphorically speaking).

Poem: The Violets of the Winter

Amid the white snow blanket
Humanity snuggles to fight the winter blues
Childish cheer blooms as violets

~Ashok Subramanian © 2023



Ashok Subramanian

A poetic mind. Imagines characters, plots. Loves Philosophy, Literature and Science. Poetry-Short Stories-Novels- Poetry Reviews-Book Reviews