Rectangle blackboard of secrets
Accepted dutifully, five petal flowers,
Lines and circle people,
Clouds of green and birds like “r”;
No price for imagination.
Black now blank, but not memories;
Images recalled frame, like a storyboard
Evoked emotions rekindle, little joys in adult life
No price for innocence.
Copyright © 2017, Deeya Nayar-Nambiar
Wind chime flirted with
White lace curtains
By kitchen window
That witnessed quietly
Fall of milk and doused flame.
I was not burnt
But bore the brunt,
Tasting imagined flavours of crumbs and cream
That spilled dramatically
When the doorbell rang
And I stumbled…
Split of white second, a momentary bliss –
Mind couldn’t retrieve, though….
“All good?”
“Of course, just a pudding.”
Wind chime flirted, once again.
Copyright © 2017, Deeya Nayar-Nambiar
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