Nazia Sultan Poet Rhyme

The Golden Pocket

Short note:

A soldier's last letter, kept in a golden pocket, never sent home.



        The Golden Pocket
 
A muddy body sleeps in ash-grey ground,  
Eyes open, guarding gold without a sound.  
While fear and tears stain the paper’s skin,  
Love is folded where the light grows dim.  
Each word a bird that will not fly home,  
And love rusts quietly in a soldier’s pocket alone.

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Ghairo Daniels July 29, 2026 at 12:20 AM Awesome write, Nazia. Incisive message in this poem. Much staying power in first & last line. Juxtaposition of gold with other colours is very effective. This line is exquisite: “ While fear and tears stain the paper’s skin,” A gem. Liked very much.

Kim Rodrigues July 19, 2026 at 5:19 AM Heart-touching and filled with sadness, yet remembrance for those letters that grow cold. Nazia Sultan July 19, 2026 at 7:20 AM Kim, thank you for feeling the sadness and the hope in it. Yes, those cold letters still hold the warmth of memory.