Her
My Favorite Teacher
It might have felt lost,
In the big world of old age pillars;
once those tiny hands slipped away,
from being her fathers fillers.
From afar came Her ,
Assuring him Of me;
and hers was I to take care of.
With Her had my father shared;
my falls and winter cold silences.
In Amongst the marks of excellence
she applauded my bits of writings,
In amongst whole classes neglect
she approved my ideas considerate of
some `relevance`.
Upheld were all those who didn’t even try;
I sat silently,
while she upheld My work `well described `
while, My falling drawbacks were in well disguise.
It might have felt lost ,
If I didn’t have the direction
to turn my shortcomings ;
to learn a skill
Beautifully to soak myself in.
In whole of the chaotic chaos
Set up around Me,
there was one escape to fresh start
with her reading of the stories ;
From those each lesson she read
in English literature;
Her each pause and flawless dialect,
gave words to my frozen picture.
Now Hers are the words I speak
Hers is this world I have meet;
Made Me look beyond Restrictions
and become this Person
who Breathes this fresh air of Fiction.
Copyright © Sonali Thakur | Year Posted 2019
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem.
Please
Login
to post a comment