He said
Streets were littered with
your ex-loves, regrets
and falling leaves.
The others
being rooted in
spiritscapes couldn’t be
urged to come.
I bring
you this, a gift of leaves,
The thick lines of which
sing like your palm’s.
In these
may you find your younger
days, and oldest songs.
Sri – Husband, flatmate and bestfriend responds
Green leaves of younger days
that dry and wither away
Like memories of past joys
and regrets of time pastThe trees remain..
with leaves..green and brown
in days..bright and gray
through life..bitter-sweet
Afterall – Leaves always inspire poetry.
Might we ask where these leaves were picked from?
Is this a cryptic love poem or a poem to cryptic love?
Either way… Beautiful.
“Look around, leaves are brown, and the sky is a hazy shade of winter”
I notice poetry is flowing once again…keep it going.
krishna
Green leaves of younger days
that dry and wither away
Like memories of past joys
and regrets of time past
The trees remain..
with leaves..green and brown
in days..bright and gray
through life..bitter-sweet
So I see. These two lovers; Neha and Sri are getting high on poetry today? Some games you too play. Meanwhile, your gentle audience is really enjoying this.
On a serious note. You should write together more often.
I mean you “TWO” play. But I consider this an interesting slip of the tongue.
You too play. You two play.
Nice jugalbandhi :)
Sri:… :)
An Odd Poet: Too many questions, and interesting observations. (Now, this is cryptic)
km: Yes. Poetry is flowing. After a minor freeze thanks to the cold. Yes – I smell a little S&G in this one too.
Ash: Thankoo!
Leaves, fallen, like the past, some get blown away, some buried; but for every leaf fallen there is at least one new coming up, somewhere.
:)