Friday, 11 August 2023

The bouquet

 


 

Splashed with a  stale spray

Her thorn is clipped and flung

There was once a soft mist

That dissolved her into submission

Now the grip tightens over her stem

As she gasps , petrified amidst slumber

Before she fears at the impending plight

Her eyes are smeared with glittery slime

Her breath is gagged by a forced tornado

The twinkle she plucked from noon

By preserving dew drops in her veil

Now coagulates in the hideous dark

Stacked with more buds in this pain

Shrouded by a see through sheath

She is chosen amidst a heap on rack

To bring cheer to a pampered lip.

 

Delhi

08 40

2086

12.8.23

 

 

No comments:

Post a Comment