Waking up Next to you, Is the most beautiful Part of the day. As I hold You little palm With my Rough with age hands They hide within them Just as you hide Your being in me When I come back From cities far away, Just as you some years back You were hidden In the two fair palms Which cupped My weary palms With distinct cigarette marks on them On an October day At the Coffee house In a sleepy town. I hold those tiny hands Of you Adorned by A faux watch shaped Like a butterfly, That is so like your soul Ready to scout all the flowers of this world, And smile- As a tree Leans on its leave For its very existence. - 24-02-2014 - A Sunday Morning Blessed by you
I am a Worshiper of Words. I ponder, I think, I write, therefore, I exist. A Blog on Literature, Philosophy and Parenting