The Sunday Muse #220
In the caressing darkness
Creeping through the
Breathing shadows
A few memories whisper
In a lingering rhapsody.
Breaking down the barriers
Of a bottled existence.
They come en masse,
With zillions of sunny dreams,
Fleeting heartaches,
Haunting love songs, magical moments,
Wordy duels and sometimes,
Just a smoldering silence.
Participating in : The Sunday Muse
An overwhelming sense of the life of a house--that would be an experience.
ReplyDeleteMemories seeped into the worn wood. Contemplative piece Sunita. 🙂✌🏼🫶🏼
ReplyDeleteOh a house holds so many memories, so much life even in its decay it can't be silenced. Beautiful piece
ReplyDeleteI can feel the haunting memories and stories living in old houses, captured so perfectly in your poem.
ReplyDeleteIf only the walls could talk? This poem is absolutely beautiful Sunita!
ReplyDeleteThe stories that are held by places now abandoned - that was what struck me too when I saw these images. Beautifully captured.
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