A difficult life, a meaningless one,
As unimaginable as it could ever be.
It would have been all this and more,
If I had never met you, dearest.
Love, at first sight, it certainly was,
That day when I came to your home.
Awed was I by everyone there,
Your near and dear ones of course.
And sweet were they, I do declare,
With nary an end in sight, they talked.
So each week I come by and heard,
Each of them telling their tales,
Of Woe and valour, Of love and adventure.
They filled my life with fun and silly banters,
And layered thick with sweet gestures.
And you, my dearest, filled me with love,
Each time with you was like floating away,
On one of those cumulus clouds of yours.
Over the rainbow and on we went,
Catching many stars in the wake,
Amidst it all in you I found,
My love and safe haven, in one.
As years went by, we grew apart.
And by then, life had become digital,
So did ours of course, fully virtual.
Mobile phones and the internet ruled it all,
Yet it was never the same again.
All I hope at this point in time,
Is for our relationship to last.
Throughout this meaningless life,
Somehow moving on, building new dreams,
Giving it meaning, till the very last breath.
NaPoWriMo 2017 Day 4
Today I’d like you to take some inspiration from Elgar and write a poem with a secret – in other words, a poem with a word or idea or line that it isn’t expressing directly. The poem should function as a sort of riddle, but not necessarily a riddle of the “Why is a raven like a writing desk?” variety. You could choose a word, for example, “yellow,” and make everything in the poem something yellow, but never actually allude to their color. Or perhaps you could closely describe a famous physical location or person without ever mentioning what or who it actually is.
In this poem, I am not referring to any person, Am actually referring to books and my love for them. The way we read books has changed so much over the years. From paperbacks and hard bounds to eBooks and pdfs, the list goes on.
Despite being a proud owner of a kindle, I would still give anything to read an actual book. The feel as one turns each page, and the smell of the old musty pages….
Click here to read my other NaPoWriMo Prompts…