<?xml version="1.0" encoding="UTF-8" ?><!-- generator=Zoho Sites --><rss version="2.0" xmlns:atom="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" xmlns:content="http://purl.org/rss/1.0/modules/content/"><channel><atom:link href="https://www.apletters.in/blogs/tag/poem/feed" rel="self" type="application/rss+xml"/><title>Blogs of Open Literature - Educational and Fictional Open Literature Blogs by Anil Prasad #Poem</title><description>Blogs of Open Literature - Educational and Fictional Open Literature Blogs by Anil Prasad #Poem</description><link>https://www.apletters.in/blogs/tag/poem</link><lastBuildDate>Mon, 09 Feb 2026 07:13:32 +0530</lastBuildDate><generator>http://zoho.com/sites/</generator><item><title><![CDATA[The melodious oceans of silence]]></title><link>https://www.apletters.in/blogs/post/The-melodious-oceans-of-silence</link><description><![CDATA[<img align="left" hspace="5" src="https://www.apletters.in/Ocean.jpg"/>Silence]]></description><content:encoded><![CDATA[Silence]]></content:encoded><pubDate>Wed, 07 Jul 2021 16:20:00 +0000</pubDate></item><item><title><![CDATA[Somewhere in India during the springtime]]></title><link>https://www.apletters.in/blogs/post/somewhere-in-india-during-the-springtime</link><description><![CDATA[<img align="left" hspace="5" src="https://www.apletters.in/Village.jpg"/> Red, green, yellow, purple... Hay, hay please don't venture a counting And do ]]></description><content:encoded><![CDATA[<p></p><div><p style="text-align:justify;">Red, green, yellow, purple...<br/> Hay, hay please don't venture a counting<br/> And don't be foolish<br/> This is springtime here...</p><p style="text-align:justify;"><br/></p><p style="text-align:justify;">The remotest you can imagine<br/> There is my village ...</br/></p></br/></br/></br/></br/></div>]]></content:encoded><pubDate>Sat, 10 Apr 2021 11:48:00 +0000</pubDate></item><item><title><![CDATA[A poem is born!]]></title><link>https://www.apletters.in/blogs/post/a-poem-is-born</link><description><![CDATA[<img align="left" hspace="5" src="https://www.apletters.in/A poem.jpg"/>Unrest Yelling heart Anger Sense of loss Sorrow Burning brain Depression Aching fingers Deep breathing Abrupt sleep Waking up Collage of images Flow of words A poe ]]></description><content:encoded><![CDATA[<p><span><span>Unrest</span><br/><span>Yelling heart</span><br/><span>Anger</span><br/><span>Sense of loss</span><br/><span>Sorrow</span><br/><span>Burning brain</span><br/><span>Depression</span><br/><span>Aching fingers</span><br/><span>Deep breathing</span><br/><span>Abrupt sleep</span><br/><span>Waking up</span><br/><span>Collage of images</span><br/><span>Flow of words</span><br/><span>A poem is born!</span><br/><br/><span>#openpoem</span><br/><span>Image attribution: Public domain image from commons.wikimedia.org</span></span></p>]]></content:encoded><pubDate>Mon, 11 Sep 2017 03:38:00 +0000</pubDate></item><item><title><![CDATA[The Bullock Cart]]></title><link>https://www.apletters.in/blogs/post/The-Bullock-Cart</link><description><![CDATA[The facilitator of fraternity When I saw the bullock cart gain First time after many years At the portico of a hotel It was not an abandoned vehicle But it ]]></description><content:encoded><![CDATA[<p><span><span>The facilitator of fraternity</span></span></p><p><span><span></span></span></p><div><div>When I saw the bullock cart gain</div><div>First time after many years</div><div>At the portico of a hotel</div><div>It was not an abandoned vehicle</div><div>But it was an old friend!</div><br/><div>He was the soulmate</div><div>And rolled rhythmically on the sandy roads</div><div>When we walked to and fro school</div><div>During the late seventies and eighties...</div></br/></div>]]></content:encoded><pubDate>Tue, 04 Jul 2017 06:56:00 +0000</pubDate></item></channel></rss>