Monday, May 14, 2012

The White Widow


Even common emotions like joy and sadness have their intricate nuances ...Here's a poem on a grieving young widow....the contrast will be stark in the poem that will succeed this .




The White Widow
 In the hushed muted nights, a stifled cry spills
across the lonely fields, the lone willow still

My throat parched and dried my eyes now of stone
even tears have deserted me only your sweet memories gnaw.

There on that bed we talked through the night,
 drowned in love and tenderness sleep lost its might.

Out in the lawn we drenched in the rain,
laughter and absurd joy running though our vein.

There in that cupboard hangs your shirt,
loyal companion currently humoring my insane chat.

Thrown on the chair your unkempt towel sits,
the scent of your being lingers in every bit.

Raiding through the moments of warmth, of silly fights, my lover my friend
Your memories are my crutches till the very end.

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