Welcome to Kirti’s Signature
A place that I call my own. A place that houses my thoughts and my words. You will feel at home here. So just enter and enjoy.
Kirti
Self proclaimed bibliophile, poet, coffee-lover and a lifelong learner. Books, coffee and music is my definition of a retreat.
About
POETRY
STORIES
Inked Thoughts
Inked Thoughts is a tender and evocative collection of poems that captures the many shades of human experience. From the quiet beauty of rain, seasons, and landscapes to the ache of memory, loss, and injustice, these poems trace a heart that is attentive, questioning, and deeply felt. Written in a voice that is intimate yet accessible, this collection invites readers to pause, reflect, and discover poetry in the everyday as well as the extraordinary.
Recent Posts
Welcoming Winters
Air, chill, yet pleasant, Misty curtains envelop, Welcoming winters.
Conversation from Within
Eager I was to see the world, Which was rudely snatched away, Even before I could sway. My existence just whirled. Why weren't my arms unfurled? Answer me my mother, why did you betray? Why couldn't I just stay, With you, in your cozy abode, just curled? What...
Completeness
Complete I feel with you, my dear, You are my brightest hue, my dear. Your presence, the best catalyst I wish everyone knew, my dear. Your breath, like waft of petrichor, Is always fresh, like new, my dear. In your hug so cosy and warm, I find...
The Night
Darkness shrouds the vast sky as the clouds huddle up, Silence prevails as the wonderful night sets in. A lone cricket buzzing, Or the bullfrog croaking, Through the eerie silence, sends shivers down the spine. The lake... quiet, frozen With an one off...
My Own… Ceased to Exist
Unsure, how safe is the land below, We are just asked to wander and go. The coldness of the land makes us slow Despite the kindness its people show And the shelter care they give us though When would we go back, I wanna know To my own... or that's what I thought so,...
Unfulfilled Dream
Will it remain an unfulfilled dream? As just impossible it does seem, to realize and happily scream, "I am a journalist of esteem". I wonder , did life really scheme against my wishes... were they supreme? Do I get a small chance to redeem my life and my dream, to...