Falero

Falero- what kind of a name is it matching with Bolero? Now Bolero is a Spanish word and it means a very many things. Dance for one , someone said it could be used for a boy who is a flatterer/ joker, it could be a piece of music or even a jacket.

As for Falero i guess it's a name rather could also be a trade name. i've heard the name somewhere. Sounds so Portuguese/ Goanese to me.
Whatever...
For me Falero means some just like Bolero.
A) Storage- Ample space and oh so convenient. i put all my bits and scraps that i deem important for me in Falero.
B) Reference-" Lali your fresh towel is just next to Falero in the closet..."
C) Finally Falero also means all these- Amusement, frolic, glee, comfort, refreshment, treasure, treat or to put all these into one word then JOY.

Glossy and flowery Falero

No more words now lest i make it sound harangued and redundant. Therefore i'll rely on my pictures to justify my claims.

Convenient

Ample Storage

Treasure

And WHEN allowed access tumble out of Falero one by one... Comfort, glee, frolic, refreshment, amusement...

Row Row Row your boat gently down the stream...merrily merrily merrily merrily life is but a dream...

i am a paper basket, i store many treats in me...cream biscuits and colored candies, puffed rice and translucent potato wafers, Flowers, few marbles and seashells too...

Paper Paper Ball i never apologized for you, but turned you into a lollypop and gifted friends many smiles too...

"...When we played the game of war and got shot down with a gun, those who died in battle got back up when we were done..."

Color Color What Color Do You Choose, Red, Green, Yellow or Blue, What Color Do You Choose.

Sometimes i think why do i have to blog about these. The answer has many layers to it. Memories yes but i would also want my blogs to be a repository. i am not a writer or a poet who can put all of me in my blogs. Maybe i am trying to. Also without sounding like a saint i want to preach too about all that i practice and have helped me in so many ways.

This instance what comes to my mind is how kids in the train are delighted to have one stranger aunty share joys with them. The already read newspapers getting transformed into treasures such as these. Of course it did start with the journeys i took with my bundle of joy and along with him i received the unconditional love and affections of all the unknown to me bundles of joy. Thanks to my own  childhood and all that remains of it.

Heeeheee hahaha hooohoo i am something we all know 

 Falero is always there just in case more tumbles out from that other suitcase which still has some more locked up beneath the layers like this scary one too.

And because i sense some talent lacking in me i enjoy taking help from the successful ones. Today Sara Stowell. Her simplicity and honesty appeals to me and in her compositions i see me. And before i copy paste one of hers in poetry i would sure like to share more courtesy my 'Google Realism'.

"For me; writing is both a cathartic diatribe and a therapeutic release. 

As far as inspiration is concerned, I write from some of the physical pain that I have been suffering from, as well as what I have been through in the past. I try to incorporate a piece of myself into each and every piece, and if one knows me well enough personally then this will be noted, otherwise I try to have it so that the audience and/or the reader can draw a conclusion or two about the speaker, without knowing exactly what I am referring to. "

Games Chidren Play

When i was just a kid

I would play with my friends.

The kind of games children play,

Where everybody wins.

When we played the game of war,

And got shot down with a gun,

Those who died in the battle

Got back up when we were done.

But these are only memories

I've locked up in my mind.

In a place where children go

When games are left behind.

Now I've grown to be an adult

With children of my own.

And i will learn more from them

Than i have ever known.

I'll watch them when they're playing,

All the games I used to play

The world is their playground,

And it's Christmas everyday.

To them there is no black or white,

And everyone's the same.

I only wish their parents knew

How to play that game.