Her music floats through the air
Hanging in the autumn breeze
Like the scent of the garden flowers;
Drowning out the buzzing bees.
The sound of her lute creates a misty cloud
In his mind as he stands
Her voice carried by the afternoon sun
(More golden than the honey drops)
Suspended over the musky earthy scents
Wakened only by the raindrops from
The morning showers.
And with her voice, and her lute,
She strokes him
And he feels her soft touch
Caress a samurai heart
And he tenders down to an orchid flower
Brought to life by the touch of the sun.
Hot latte in hands,
Warmth seeping through fingers,
Savouring the taste – Apple pie.
A single coffee table:
A coffee table of memories.
Sifting through the leaves,
Chance upon the dog-eared pages
Of a well-worn thought pocket.
Lavender breeze turns the pages
One by one
And the dog ears float in front of me.
Images, words and silences
Twist, turn and intermingle
Into shadows, and white spots.
Teardrops and smiles
Of vainglorious childhood
Closeted in a fantastical cloud.
Rizowana is a third year student of English (Honours) from Delhi University. Literature, music and good food make up her life, as does her love for animals. She tries to maintain a dialogue with simplicity by going back to nature and avoiding people. More of her work can be read at her blog: http://www.rose-shadowland.blogspot.in/