Saturday, 11 April 2015

She is Words


Those unread words

On the pages of your diary

Call me day and night

I have strength not

To touch or caress them

With all my heart

When the moon whispers

In her silver voice

Do those words sing

I wonder

You loved the gleaming disc

Glued in the sequined sky

The monsoon dance

On the tinned roof next door

Lulled you to sleep

You told me

May be the pages still hold

Those lively steps

The loud summer sun

You eschewed

Your sweetness calmed me down

Are those words made of that cool shade

Falling from the banyan trees

And wrapping up the weary souls

I wonder


You are

Only words

My baby

Shall I touch you

In your word form

No, not now

Come to me

When I breathe my last



Posted for Poetry Pantry @ PoetsUnited