Tuesday, February 16, 2010

Nostalgia

A flower of basil everyday
Plucked every morning and gifted, 
A gentle surreptitious stroke, 
On the palm of hand, 
A stolen kiss, 
Beneath the staircase, 
A glance across a crowded room, 
Caught and returned. 

A quickly scribbled message, 
And a faded rose, 
Inside a gifted book of poetry, 
Neatly kept, unread, 
Like promises unfulfilled, 
Long forgotten and buried, 
Those days of love, 
That are dead and gone.

2 comments:

Babitha Marina Justin said...

Nice.... Like the crisp and simple images

swapnap said...

Really....i could see it all in my eyes too as the words were read.Nice imagery and perfect words.