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Yasomie Peiris

Yasomie Peiris calls herself a Dreamer who loves to pen her dreams in a creative manner. She has been writing poetry, short stories and quotes and has an unpublished collection. She is very good at drawing and pencil sketches. She is an accountant and Confidential Secretary by profession and left service many years ago and decided to enjoy life as a homemaker. Yasomie was a member of the Leo Club of Battaramulla and won many local and international awards for social service performance.
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My Last Link

I ran hysterically and had no idea what was happening! The village was haunted and dark; only the stars gave me courage. Ghostly silence of humanity, and only a bat flapped its wings, and an owl hooted far away in
April 25, 2023
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One night…

Snow capped purple mountains I see, Whispering a melody for me to feel. The fresh perfumery scent of the Fraser Fir, soothe my lungs in fragment fresh air. Sun dips beyond the hazy mountain range; glow of the rising moon doth search
October 25, 2022
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Desire and Happiness

It was almost past 5 O’clock. However, the lifts weren’t as crowded as many building officers worked on a roster due to the pandemic. I walked across the narrow alley to get the 174 bus. As usual, the receptionist on
July 25, 2022
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Madam a Sandwich Please

“In this highly electronic and techno era, where fundamentals, manners and charisma are dwindling from the sector who claims as human beings; somewhere in a corner of the globe lived a child…….” I was drained and exhausted this evening after work
April 25, 2022
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Quill Of Pain

White paper don’t stare at me Never crumple you, I guarantee Don’t fly away, When the breeze sways Stay on the old oak desk Tip of the quill is not fake Quill of pain Need you more than I The
October 25, 2021
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One Magical Night

One Magical Night Down in the meadows: On the lustrous green, Sprawled beneath: In the shade of the old oak tree, Surrendered in my thoughts….. My eyes glimpsed: The sweet lilies bloom, Beside the gushing stream: Breathing the scented spray, Profound! As
April 25, 2021
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Comfortable?

O! My boy, my son, Cradle in my arms. Eyes misty as the winter sky…. Silver tears wet my forehead, why? Bury my face in your precious arms; Mum, I don’t understand. Why, is Dad in the box over there? One we
January 25, 2021
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Gimara

She was seated on the low bench with a warm cup of kahata the cupped between her palms. She watched the ocean becoming calm with dainty white ripples gushing and disappearing on the sandy beach. The bright orange ball was gradually
July 25, 2020