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
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:
Us
and our times..
Miss u
Wow, sweet and touching. Wonderful.
Wonderphool.
Lines full of longing.
May the night falls soon and he's home...
:)
Blasphemous Aesthete
makes me think of the other person's perspective... care to try and portray it in another post?
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.
That could be dangerous, but don't push too hard, there aren't any ideally perfectly elastic things in nature.
:)
:)
Beautiful.
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?
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!
Every moment spent with a special someone is always missed when that person is gone from our lives.
Beautiful poem. :)
I could really visualize the afternoon.
Vivid and lovely descriptions!
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.
and that makes a beautiful day
Yeah, love makes a beautiful day
Post a Comment