Pause

Our afternoons
the smell of tea
colors of maroon & brown
noises of children playing outside

Our nights
dimmed lights
whispers traded, shared
sighs, breaths & darkness

Mornings
dew drops on petals
new hopes
a harmless hurry, impatience

Our evenings
a nearing shroud of night
I, waiting at the window
craving to be together with you, again


Us
and our times..



Pic Courtesy: S

16 comments:

$uch! said...

Us
and our times..
Miss u

Richa said...

Wow, sweet and touching. Wonderful.

~fannan said...

Wonderphool.

Blasphemous Aesthete said...

Lines full of longing.
May the night falls soon and he's home...

:)
Blasphemous Aesthete

The Sage said...

makes me think of the other person's perspective... care to try and portray it in another post?

wildflower said...

S
Sometimes I am surprised when I try to fathom the difference your presence brings into my life

Richa
Thank you.. I have told you about the parallels, haven't I :)

fannan
Hmm

BA
I hope he's not. I want to keep waiting!

Rishi
There is no other person, I am chasing an illusion.

Blasphemous Aesthete said...

That could be dangerous, but don't push too hard, there aren't any ideally perfectly elastic things in nature.

:)

$uch! said...

:)

Enchanta said...

Beautiful.

The Sage said...

never thought it was an autobiographical post, flo... and as far as the other 'person' is concerned, by chasing an illusion haven't you personalised it?

wildflower said...

BA
I am tired of the mundane waiting, let's try some dangerous now! Bring it on!

S
Hmm..

Enchanta
Danke!

Rishi
Isn't everything autobiographical?
And I daren't personalize it, I am done with real people eating into my life, no intentions to let illusions continue that legacy!

D2 said...

Every moment spent with a special someone is always missed when that person is gone from our lives.
Beautiful poem. :)

Rajita said...

I could really visualize the afternoon.
Vivid and lovely descriptions!

wildflower said...

D2
Sometimes you also miss someone who isn't even there in your life at all. Strange enough!

Rajita
It all started with the afternoon, I was sipping tea alone and the poem happened.

•Dipilicious• said...

and that makes a beautiful day

wildflower said...

Yeah, love makes a beautiful day