It rained today, heavy rain
And i just could take some old logs
From the backyard
Where they lie waiting for my grandfather
Who would build ships with them.
And I just could take a small flame
From the matchbox
Which my dad always used
To make a bonfire from old newspapers.
And I just could hold her close to me
From all the places I never searched for her
Where she’d always go.
And I just could tell her stories
Of old princes and demons and lost springs
and pirates and treasures and mango showers.
The heavy rain…
And the old logs still lie there...
without memories n stories,drenched in the heavy rain.....
6 comments:
fine work machu... brings nostalgia into the air.....
fine work machu... brings nostalgia into the air.....
avasaanam manisilaillaalloo aliyyaa
Good work.. Hoping for more poetry.. but a bit of optimism wont hurt i suppose!
"Which my dad always used
To make a bonfire from old newspapers.
And I just could hold her close to me
From all the places I never searched for her"
????
nice, i can empathise.. bt dude, u have an issue with finishing a train of thought before starting another?? wht ws tht abt ur dad, and right after tht, smthin else???
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