Day-11 NaPoWriMo-2020
Prompt: Language of Flowers
image: Sunita Prasad
Tonight I write,
About a sweet memory
Memory as old as time.
There were those
Scrawny hands
Filled with a lover's vibe.
They held a needle
A needle stringed together
With a thread of fragrance.
The evening glistened
Weaving the pearls
In her diminishing eyes.
She held that fragrance
In her wrinkled hands
And weaved a world of her own.
The way she weaved
Those pristine pearls
Left a whiff of life in the misty air.
She strung them
One after another
Till a lengthy memory was made.
She dressed up
In her best attire
Adorned with the fragrance in her hair.
The summers,
Strengthen her love
In the tresses, waiting for her beloved.
Participating in : http://www.napowrimo.net/day-eleven-8/
No comments:
Post a Comment