SALONI KAUL - SONNETS

​Saloni Kaul, author and poet, was first published at the age of ten and has stayed in print since on four continents. As critic and columnist Saloni has enjoyed forty two years of being published. Saloni Kaul's first volume, a fifty poem collection was published in the USA in 2009. Subsequent volumes include Universal One and Essentials All.

Saloni Kaul is also an accomplished broadcaster, writer-producer-presenter with innumerable documentaries and features to her credit.


Most recent Saloni Kaul poetic production has been published in The Horrorzine, Mad Swirl (contains ongoing Saloni Kaul poetry page), The Penwood Review, Scarlet Leaf Review, OVI Magazine,House Of Horror Glitter & Words, The Whimperbang Journal, Mantis, The Paragon Press Journal, The Imaginate , Amulet Poetry Magazine and Mystical Muse Poetry Magazine. Upcoming publication acceptances include those of Scarlet Leaf Review, OVI, Amulet Poetry Magazine, Mystical Muse Magazine, The Charleston Anvil and the Whimperbang Journal.

​TASMANIA IN YOUR STRIDE

Those rivers way above all charted sound till viscidly they ran          
Their tough course plying thundering beneath;
What's high, what's low, what's up, what's down we scan,
In your stride little you grasp this whole heath.
Lakes hollow with eye could perhaps see traces lurk,
Cirque glaciers so long gone that did their imprints weave,
Like sculptor in time dexterously at work
That on hillsides his old carved monuments would leave.
Tall pendam palms waxed, incongruously sitting
Preside round these edges of Lake Tahune
And sway to winds which come that way loud singing
Through narrowed splits, gorges, abysses, their own tune.
With style you took it all in your wee stride,
As waters roaring grand went on their ride.

SCULPTING SOUTHERN PEAKS

We that gripped hard at what felt like land’s end
Wondered at you who only saw what wonderland vast meant
In icy sheets all stretching to south pole’s iceland              
Where iceshelves float on elevated continent.
White stretches far beyond, so white the flocks they host,
O’er white lands tripping eerily they prance ;
Lands where even the chance of your spotting a ghost
Actually stands just about a ghost of a chance.            
There where huge tabular icebergs float all in all           
Before large blue whale, humpback, sei and minke,
Adelie, Emperor penguins one metre tall,
Waddle bold colonies that seldom blink.
As unafraid as these, you sculpt new peaks with ease,
Be they great iceland wonders with their cryptic tease.

USAGE LITTLE BY LITTLE

Those were the tales you liked best as book by book
Invented by your mother SALONI KAUL
Rose right before your eyes, your fancy took
In measures both magnificent and tall.
Like icecap of globe’s polar far extremity
Contains ninety percent of world’s liquid in freeze,
One pliable  tale holds suspended in perpetuity
Unmelting  all that’s round the bend to slow release.     
For melting means all unimaginables let loose.
Would raise Sealevel by sixty metres they say!
So I tell and give little by little to use,
Melting in turn that then does freeze away.
Each has its round like batsman at the crease ,
Then rests awhile though on wafts the tale’s breeze.     ​

 AT MCG !

World Cup Cricket took all Melbourne by storm,
You were at MCG to add your mite
To seventy thousand fans that to see teams’ form
Thronged steep stadium aisles by day and by night.
You ran up down aisles all day at high mount --
We had prime seats thanks to dear Government House! --
Cried ‘four’ and ‘six’ and ‘out’ at oddest count,
Elicited great shots, forced some to take last bows.
The English batsmen entertained the little girl gad-about    
Seated betwixt Gooch and Lamb in pillion;
At least they loved you till you shouted ‘out’
And top order marched back to the pavilion.
When David Gower beamed at us and with you shook hands,
You didn’t know who was who, stars at the stands.
Your ‘out’ fetched glares when it resulted in a catch,
They all forgave you only when they won the match.
 
Alec Stewart’s 77 and Neil Fairbrother’s 75 were highlights in England’s 3w. win.

WORLD CUP FINALS AT MCG !

For semis’ winners in store at finals was a reversal!
With eagle-eye from vantage point on high
We cheered watching two mighty stalwarts tussle
Through staunchest ‘sixes’ squeals, wailed ‘clean bowled’ sighs.
The lights went on, tension at grounds electric,
A lofty six* sailed all the way to tallest roof,
(*one of Imran’s four in the match!)
Strong solid partnerships   score boosted brick by brick,
Tight was the field and this battle of wits no spoof.
Valiant innings stoutly booed or soundly cheered,
Excitement mounting could scarcely be quelled;
Your laughs governed direction in which match was steered,
All in the right spirit of sportsmanship upheld.
Though all but two, this much you could well sense
In ups and downs of game, what’s given precedence.


This first ever limited overs One day Cricket World Cup to be held in the southern hemisphere saw a virtual seachange, total overhauling so far as rules went. Day Night Match was introduced, you saw white balls, coloured uniforms/ clothing, rule changes, fielding restrictions alterations confused/bewildered us and  South Africa was brought into the limelight for the first time by fluke making  it to the semis and Pakitans by fluke to the finals. It was a great World Cup to be a part of and  two of the matches we attended ( Yamini at a year and a half)  had much that was memorable, the third wicket partnership of 139 (Imran’s last !) , score boosted by Inzamam(42/35) and Akram (33/19) who captured 18 wickets in the championship and wangled the 22 run victory by getting England all out for 227(Pak had batted 249/6), Rameez Raja’s 35 fours and Allan Lamb’s performance. I’ll always relive that excitement and nail-biting close when I re-read these sonnets!
 

EASILY REIGNING

Thick with invisible wild life’s strength forests teeming,
Pulsates immensity’s lush wilderness striate,
Like those who etched their wild’s beauty in the Dreaming
To let rainforests that skimp-thrive, luxuriate.
White possums glide, fruiteating Thornton Peak Melomys dart,
Shrike Thrush songs all lure tall Cassowary,
Antechinus, droll Dasyuroid, like quolls  dunnarts,
Midst pure palm stands, you test inhabitants of canopy.
On pea-green sunlit lawns the stately peacocks preen
While we applaud lunching in style at a bush ranch,
And flockloads of rainbow bee-eaters you charmed screen
As they dive, dance, tumble on casuarina branch.

In these lush tropics easily reign woods wee denizens,

To you Gold Bowerbird and Chowchilla make equal sense.Today you and your good friends glued to your Ipods
Would root for thriving musky primitive wee macropods!

FAIRY PENGUINS ALL ENCHANT

Men, women, children caged in, toeing strict the line
As setting sun’s emissaries the waters wade;
That typical streaming beacon’s the daily sign
For start of Summerland Beach’s Penguin Parade.
In from high seas, laden with sheer bounty itself 
Onto the gold sands these coated creatures tumble,
Falling flat on full stomachs, they upright themselves,
In comic yet stately array launch their waddle.
O’er boardwalks we tail as straight to burrows they hobble
And laugh cry sigh as we peer into their lifestyle!
As they belch out all that they’ve intact gobbled
Day long, to feed their baby penguin chicks in style.
The Northerlies spell calm, the southerlies storm  choppy seas;
The Phillip Island penguins all perform, enchant with ease.  ​

​ISLES OF SECLUSION

Poets and sensitive souls shy from excessOf virtually all vulgarity, violence,
Bathos, verbosity, the sentimental recess,
To stoically allow inner reserves dominance.
As at first brush when confronted with danger,
A tortoise recluse prefers by far its own hard shell
To risky encounters with dogs in the manger
That want own meat at the cost of everyone else.
On precipitous cliff turf, nests on ledges hard ,
Squats midst sea thrift, reeds, low earth banks, rock crevices,
The dark-eyed smell-sensitive fulmar its privacy guards
At danger sign ejects foul stench, anti-intruder device.
As Sage from retreat and meditation draws his sustenance,
All from isles of seclusion reap dividends,extract our subsistence.

INTUITION'S TEMPO

Going headlong with the intuitive flow,Heeding internal tempo rhythmic set by heart and pulse
Make the run easy each time, as yielding slow
Driftwood, stones, rocks soon dash to wild stream impulse.
Chasing e’er-changing fashion’s latest trend
Might make ‘going with the current’ sound hollow!
But chasing bright elusive rainbows round the bend
Add depth to worlds otherwise most shallow.
What would this poet mother be without
Effusive efflux’s speeding poems on neat,
What would even the sceptic do with doubt
When love sails in to sweep him off his feet?
Trust your inner voice (it can’t be that wrong)
As only with sweet melody develops song.

DOING & LIKING

It’s always sensible to set aside
Occasionally wisely the time for you yourself
To do exactly as you please and decide
Without following the herd, matters for oneself.
Doing what others like is all very well !
Pleasure is also to be derived from pleasing
The other; like clowns at circus with pride swell
At loud applause old bag of tricks greeting.
But content to truly be you, you must content
Your own inner needs, zest for life and drive ;
As satisfaction in items of beauty lent
Is only doubled when you receive double yours alive.
Make the time for yourself to think things through.
When you do what you like, you like what you do.

SENSES ALL ON

Strain your ears to hear the song of the wind,Your eyes focus to see landscapes pictured in the sky;
Breathe in deep to smell the zest through lemon rind
Touch needle-sharp to sense mysteries where they lie
Soft fingertip touch , mysteries within pry.
Your voice soften so it tells of all these
Like brooks the dreams of mount glaciers at height;
And when fitting raise it to sound loud as you please,
As the roar of the sea echoes all of day at night.
How these accumulations of vision
Of that heard long and sensed even longer
Work on our mind and spirit like story collections
That lead readers through a myriad worlds dispenser !
Alive to all this, each year (as you older grow) of yours gold ore
Conveys like cumulative interest the best of years before.

BEAUTY'S YARDSTICK & TEMPLE TRIUMPHS

Stars flit o’er the sky’s midnight blueAs I contend with beauty, beauty long forgot,
Grapple with changing aesthetics untrue
As fickle as fashion tastes yesterday bought. 
The essence of beauty’s always valued as valour
Even as yardsticks to judge constant change,
And then there be those that see beauty in squalor,
In ugliness, the rundown, downtrodden range.
But then as stars flit o’er the sky’s midnight blue
And the bright silvery moon’s light’s unfurled ,
I see the changing moon’s many phased golden hue
The promise of that round full moon curled.
Beauty’s like that, I tell you, as round table we dine.
With but one face presented, the whole’s constant, eternal, mine.

IRREPRESSIBLE

​Living off impulses might sound riskyBut there’s much to be said in its favour
As irrepressible laughter (pure as malt whisky)
Does wonders for someone’s waning humour.
Impetuous may be the generous giver
Vanward as a pushing front thrusting impellent ;
But think, what if you’re the lucky receiver ?
World transformed, you conjure bliss and relent !
Unpredictability’s charm like plant from seed sown,
The sudden surprise, the unexpected gift
Is all very well, in a class of its own ,
Like a hand in friendship, a healed rift.
Now and then let’s all give impulse a free hand,
Let down our hair and dance to some rollicking band.