It was a winter morning, last November
I recall my journey from my treasured frames
of amasses, titters and acts.
She was in an intermediate between red and blue
and her eyes pored out from all realisms
with a smile unnoticed on her face
Yet she burst forth with glory of her own platonisms.
Who so ever knew what she was questioning
But the forbearance that glistered
My heart answered for once
She wants to be the female monarch of her own world.
It was my keen ballet from core of my heart
her arrival was greeted with a rousing fanfare
I ruminated my own euphony
whether I'm being enamored or was it a desire.
I arrogated myself for a rime to perorate
I expected somehow to discover a woman who would love me
and embellished some oneirisms in my heart
A feeling that I was afraid of but then it seemed like am living for once.
Note: Dedicated to my Love, Piyali Shome