Her anklets whisper
To the nearby grass blades,
The reclining sun
Will come again
The day might be
Drawing close
The evening
Might soothe
Her soul
But she is waiting
For the new day
To come
To hold her close
To tell her
"Your anklets
Told me,
You were here
Waiting..."
Words by : Wanderer
Picture by : Aritra
11 comments:
nice.onc again u rose to the occasion n spun a tale even though the pic didn't provide much to write abt, yet u came up wd a brilliant theme.
@ Ritesh... The image had its own story. Honestly speaking it was taken from the perspective of a boy/man. I initially thought of writing it from a man's perspective...but I failed miserably. So wrote the poem down from a girl's perspective, which I believe does little justice to the main idea present in the image.
i feel some how the spark goes missing. will wait for the next one. take your time :)
OK OK.. I will get back with better ones I promises, though I like the image pretty much, but somehow...hope I write better next time.
The story of the Anklet, is it?
A neglected object made the protagonist.
I wonder how many could do that?
:)
@Zave...now that is a new perspective altogether.good point my friend. Seems like you saw it from a new angle, ignored so far...
such beautiful words !!!
a die for romantic person you are,,,
@ nikita--yes we both are romantics in two different ways...
the vagabond is in love with images, and I have fallen for words, verses and the like.
thanks dears for dropping in.
mind blowing piece.
Glad to meet you.
i love this..it reminds me of story I've read somewhere.. about a student writer who failed miserably to impress his instructor. So one day, he gathered all his wits and asked his instructor why he gave him a C on his preliminary exam. The instructor said that writing about something grand doesn't necessarily mean it's great. Why not write about something common or anything less exciting instead? Just be observant and write about it...
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