DREAMS IN SCRIBBLES

Hopes and dreams in ink

Achievements

Latest Scribbles

Who am I?

Welcome to my world of words! I am Anaya Sheth. I am 12 and currently in 7th grade. I am writing since the age of 6. I love reading and (you guessed it!) writing. I want to be known worldwide for my writing one day.

DREAMS IN SCRIBBLES

Hopes and dreams in ink

  • The Girl and the Tiger

    (Inspired by Little Red Riding Hood)

    The girl, donning a hat and a frock,

    walked into the woods,

    Oblivious to the dangers coiled within.

    Her steps were light and her smile bright,

    She was a picture of innocent delight.

    A whisper echoed through the wind,

    “Go in! Go in! ripe fruits await,

    And flowers bright sprouting in the shade.”

    Trusting, the child followed the voice,

    And ventured into the deep dark trees,

    Hoping to taste the apples sweet.

    Little did the darling know,

    A pair of eyes watched her go,

    Bright and sharp,

    Cutting through flesh and hearts.

    The forest held its breath,

    The leaves curled up close.

    The tiger leapt from behind the bushes

    And swallowed her whole,

    Frock, hat and all.

    The woods grew silent once more,

    holding the echoes of a child’s trust.

  • In the Quiet of the Storm

    The wind rattled against her window.

    The traffic sought no cease.

    The clouds lurked like a menacing beast.

    Yet she felt at peace.

    Her mind was blank,

    Her heart simply beat.

    She just lived calmly.

    Worried about nothing.

    Perhaps it was because her house was warm.

    Maybe the aroma of baking bread soothed her.

    It could be the thought,

    That her soul would never be as dark

    As the sky that night.

    Yet, it was more likely

    That she had pushed her worries and doubts,

    Her dreams and aspirations,

    Quietly to the back of her mind.

    And simply…

    lived in the moment.

    But we’ll never really know.

  • When Chess Becomes a Mess

    POEM 3 ON THE CHESS-INSPIRED POEMS SERIES

    If you have not read the previous poems click below:

    Poem 1
    Poem 2

    Rivalry reigned as Black and White faced each other,

    Each with a rather devilish glint in their eyes.

    Black stood confident, calm and poised,

    While White whimpered, still not recovered from prior defeats.

    Even the Queen of White

    Had lost her old might.

    Each jewel on her crown felt heavier than before,

    Yet she rallied, determined to try once more.

    Knights leaped, strong and all powerful,

    Rooks swooped, handsome and tall.

    The Dark queen was savage, striking without mercy,

    While the pale one burnt with unquenched rage.

    It was a most aggravating battle,

    Both sides abhorring the other,

    More bitter than even medieval kings at war,

    Pieces clashed in silent fury across the black and white floor.

    The game ended in a weary draw,

    For both were tired and wanted to thaw.

    Black drooped low, exhausted and drained,

    White seethed in outrage, her fire unrestrained.

    Both yearned for the coveted crown,

    But both knelt down on the chequered ground.

  • The Mountain’s Might

    In a land where cold winds chill,

    And houses lie scattered, lonely still,

    There stands a mountain, tall and proud,

    Silent, ancient, wrapped in cloud.

    He never kneels down,

    To the wind so strong.

    Never succumbs to the power,

    Of the blazing sun.

    He’s the king of this place, he believes.

    No one can conquer him,

    Not even the tides of the sea.

    He thinks, ‘There’s nobody as powerful as me’.

    He commands. ‘Don’t dare to make me cross,

    Otherwise, you will be at a loss’.

    Everybody sinks into their shell in fright,

    Afraid of this king’s might.

    Beneath his heart of stone and towering might,

    Lies a truth hidden from sight.

    He can’t scurry about, like the little mouse,

    He can’t hunt nimbly, like the giant tiger,

    He has no brains, not like the cunning fox,

    So, what can he do, this king so grand?

    Only stand proud and make demands.

    What happens when the people cease to fear?

    When courage blooms and doubt disappears?

    They rise together, their courage grows,

    And the mountain’s limits they now show.

    With all his pride and all his might,

    He stands alone all day and night.

    No legs to move, no voice to sing,

    Frozen in stone, forever still.

    So, think, reflect, let wisdom grow,

    True power lies not in fear or show.

    Look deep within and find your courage,

    To pave your path, have enough rage.

  • WINGS THAT WEEP

    Anaya’s poem in school magazine

    Wings that weepDownload