Tuesday, June 28, 2011

The Wait

A girl all of fifteen
So genial and genteel,
Swayed like a tree
At her favorite spot, by the sea;
Her giggles filled the air
With a charm quite rare;
She picked her pebbles
And blew those soap bubbles,
Which naughtily at times chose
To pop right on her nose;
Those waves kissed her feet
She tasted the water, oh not-so-sweet!
She wrote with her hands
On the golden sands
Her favorite names
And played her games
With sea shells and stars
Soothing her scars
Of a wound still livin’
But long forgiven
For, she knows better
It was not just petter
As those memories hit her
She continues to sway
By the tree, to this day
Longing for her gait
And hoping for the end to wait.


nishant said...

The poem is like modern art in some sense..one can draw so many inferences from it!! :) U r doing it from ur heart now!! This is flow which will take u where u ought to go!!

Bodhisatwa Sadhu said...

Very beautiful; loved it

Suganya Mani said...

how sweet :) love this poem :)

Shibanka Biswas said...

Just read it...Beautiful :)