Kirti V

An IT Professional turned teacher who loved to write took to serious writing during the 2020 pandemic. I prefer writing poems but have written some short stories as well. A voracious reader, linguist, an avid quizzer, music and sports lover, self proclaimed coffee addict and foodie that I am, my creations also reflect the same. Have contributed to some anthologies and look forward to publish my own sometime. Kirti's Signature is the foundation for that.. Happy to share my work with you all through this website. It contains poems, stories, mini bytes (pocket poems and pocket stories), reviews and a glimpse of my published work!! The website will also feature the different types of poetry forms with the explanations and sample poems written on the same.
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Reverdie

In the sleepy winter morn,  Like a glisk of warmth,  Creeped in the dawn.    The song of the cuckoo,  Chimed in  tandem,  As the sun played peek a boo.    The sprouting greens,  On the snow clad branches,  Looked so calm and serene.    The...

Breathing Poetry

We inhale goodness, Positivity and reassurance,  When we read a nice poem Which fills us with freshness and warmth.    We exhale our feelings, troubles And our experiences,  As a process of venting out,  When we write a poem,  Which calms our mind, As...

Jugaad Saves the Day

Just as I thought I was done for the day,  My phone rang, scaring me away.  Guests were on their way,  Unannounced, but in gay.    All I had were some chapatis and onions,  And I got my companion.  Sliced them...

Guess!! Who Am I ????

Your slender and sleek body,  Oh! My hands yearn to hold you.  The black attire, sometimes green,  With a golden crown,  Makes you stand out in the crowd.  You come fully fed at times,  But I love when I feed...

Beauty – An Acrostic

Black or white, elegant or rags,  Eyes speak in volumes of the  Ageless beauty, and confidence, Untold feelings that reflect  Through them : the eyes, that Yearn for and give away affection. Photo by Drew Dizzy Graham on Unsplash

Me, the Pusthakapuzhu

I was called a pusthakapuzhu,  As I slept and woke up with books.    Books were my lifelines And my best friends too.    As days passed, I joined the rat race And the pusthakapuzhu in me went into hibernation.    The lockdown...

The Bond

There she lay, all torn and battered,  And lost in the woods Sweeping the floor in agony and anguish.     The air carried the waft,  That was known to her and That made her weary eyes open.    She sensed the presence,  Of...

A Drop of Life

She was thirsty and parched,  The heat cracked her skin open.  All she yearned for,  Was a drop of water to soothe herself.    Her weary eyes, were in search,  Of that one speck of dark cloud,  Through which a drop...

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