of my child
My little granddaughter
Someone placed you in my arms
Minutes after you were born.
I looked into your dark eyes –
Vitreous pools darting to and fro
Trying to fathom a bright new world
After your dark sojourn in your mother’s womb.
I knew not whether your eyes were blue or black
But the all-pervading intensity of their enchanting hue
Seemed to tint the whites as well
Turning them into priceless jewels.
Priceless jewels that reflected a sparkle
The same sparkle I beheld in your mother’s eyes
When I held her as a babe
Many Decembers ago.
- Thilaha Yoganathan
The diamond ring upon her finger
Sealed the deal. She was mine.
This prize would be the light of my life.
I adorned her – to keep her looking happy.
Glittering sapphires, brilliant emeralds, dazzling amethysts…
(This investment had got to be worth it!)
Blood-red rubies about her throat,
Golden hoops and golden bangles in abundance,
Tinkling silver circling her ankles.
But… unlike sparkling jewels,
True love cannot be bought
At any market price.
I learnt this too late,
When confronted with
The icy glint in her diamond eyes.
- V. Ramanayake
Who needs gold? Or silver?
Their sparkle cold
Trapped in this city
I yearn for the village
of my childhood
Just let me see
the morning dew
the sun’s first few rays
The ripples on the lake
As night-time falls
New leaves on trees
with the start of spring
and beautiful smiles,
only contentment can bring.
The unseen beauty
She cradled her love of life,
Close to her heart.
Trying to feed the beat of her soul.
To feel the warmth of the newly born beauty
The rosy cheeks and tiny fingers pressed against her breast
The baby sucking milk soundly,
Was carried away by dreams of wonder,
Listening to the only rhythm of her unseen world,
The slow beat of her mother’s heart,
Smiling in her unspoken dreams
She listened to the whispering lullaby
She cuddled her world close lovingly,
Giving the warmth of a lifetime.
Happy to be called ‘mother’
And the closed eyes against her breast
Never saw her eyes sparkling with tears.
- Dineli Jayasekera
That evening was bright and calm
as the slumbering ocean
Blue waters of the lake
Sparkled in the glitzy sunlight
I was wandering
along the dale…
I met her again
My eyes glistened with delight
We exchanged a glance
I won’t miss her again
Memories stirred my heart
I peeped into her eyes
They were dark with
I grabbed her hand
The ring on her finger sparkled.
- K. K. G. I. Dilmini
A frightened bell
Aged five, my daughter, a Christmas Bell
in the nursery concert, wore a home-made stiff shining bell-shaped
silver bodice, yellow sequin-shimmered skirt, yellow socks and silver
Proud mothers and teachers beautified excited
children. Her small face, scarlet lips and cheeks were distressingly
un-childlike. Mouth set, hands clasped, she resolutely refused to
appear. She was frightened. We watched the show, disappointed, with
just a photograph for the album. I keep that silver bell as a Christmas
decoration, even after her daughter was born. It reminds me how
vulnerable our children are, when we are determined to make them
- Faith Ratnayake
He went out of your life
He also took the sparkle
Your love – with him.
What right had he to take
That splendid sparkle
That you had for him –
It is not his possession
It is Your sparkle
Do not give it to him
Where it has gone
And rekindle it.
- Priscilla Pereira