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
The pleasures of wonderful little things are often missed in ordinary pursuits of everyday living. Thoughts of innumerable words of money, gains, competitions, fame and enjoyment cloud an ordinary mind to a relentless chaser.
Chaos of colours splayed out;
Cloudless sky, a charmer.
Chaos of traffic paused at signal;
He had eyes only for green signal.
Is there a someday? Only holiday can tell.
Copyright © 2017, Deeya Nayar-Nambiar
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