The Birthday Gift
I’ve an inexcusable habit,
forget my wife’s birthday.
This time I promise myself I won’t.
So, on that day from backyard
I pluck a blooming red rose,
keep it hidden till the dinner time
when I give her the single flower.
She doesn’t smile, for the story has begun.
Copyright © Subimal Sinha-Roy | Year Posted 2025
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment