Her sari,
Hanging in the balcony…
Was heavy a while ago
Its movement was pretty slow
A drunken stupor
The golden mate
caressed,
Transformed its demeanor
Slightly embraced
Wow
It’s feathery now
Light, soft
Flirting with the breeze
O jeez
Can’t steal away
Tied with a spoilsport
No way
It can transport.
All the three mates
Writing stories
Trying their fate
With the sari,
Who’s writing hers
The owner who wears
Shh…doesn’t even know
The goings-on
Of all the four.
And the seer
Trapped in time, a writer
Of hush-hush, is engrossed
At times lost
Now and then
With all of them.
Life like this
Alive in moments’ bliss
She comes and takes it away
Thank god doesn’t notice me
Caught in the act for free,
Trapped in the play.
Note:
Sari - a garment consisting of a
length of cotton or silk elaborately draped around the body, traditionally worn
by women from South Asia. [Source, Wikipedia]
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