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That morning.....


It was one month to her marriage day
Like every morning
She woke up to the painting
Gifted by someone special,
Once made in the process of learning her passion

Winding off with breakfast
She walking down the stairs
To pick the novel
For handing it over to him with her morning tea
Yes, he wasn't a newspaper addict
But was addicted to words and ink
No, he wasn't a writer but passion of reading was deeply rooted in him

And there was a knock
Knock on the door .
He was about to open but then she was walking towards the door
Dismissing him for the same
She felt something strange
And there was a face known
Seeing that face after years
Felt like a shock rather than a surprise

Few best things do come as shocks
He had just been quite for a moment
In the middle of saying-
" Would you mind keeping the key..."
Alot many moments on the door

"Who is it?"
And the train of thoughts halted to the words -
" Our new neighbour...."
Dropping the story on the table
He was at the door to greet
"Good morning...Mr.?"
And she just said "He doesn't like introduction."

Taking the key waving a good day,
She closed the door
And looking at the painting she said to him-

 "We met.
We talked.
We stopped
We started.
We missed
And then it was all lost."

Comments

  1. Unknown6 January 2019 at 12:12

    The way you write, you think, you dream is ❤️
    🙌
    Big Fan 🙏

    ReplyDelete
  2. deeps6 January 2019 at 12:56

    once painted, it lasts a long time... let the memories revive the images

    ReplyDelete
  3. A N O N9 January 2019 at 15:18

    a loved once becomes an unknown ..
    And an unkown becomes a loved one..
    Fate plays a game in which we are just a pawn..
    ;)

    ReplyDelete
  4. Unknown30 January 2019 at 10:37

    😍😍loved this poem of yours
    Great job 🙌🙌

    ReplyDelete

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