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
Agile hands worked hard to toil
The family owned land.
Sheets of blue tarpaulin shaded
Young one cuddled up on tattered sheet.
Beads of sweat vanished into the parched land. But,
Water not enough to bed the seeds.
A familiar blue frame with broken glass dangled;
Bamboo held it strong. The photo meant faith.
Copyright © 2017, Deeya Nayar-Nambiar
You gave me a red rose
Every time to proclaim love.
I blushed red and gushed,
Remembering the day
We stepped into an arranged marriage.
Honest as always,
You declared your gratitude
To the flower seller –
His only stock of red roses.
I chose the vermilion, instead.
Copyright © 2017, Deeya Nayar-Nambiar
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