When the Butterflies Return
The autumn sun shimmered on my garden,
all the trees I nurtured turned metallic bronze.
The rustling leaves designed the flutes of zephyr,
played golden tune on garden path I didn’t walk.
The party ended before sunset when like a leaf
you disappeared on the frail trail to obscurity,
for the night fell early with the starless sky
on my plateau of flowers, turned a wasteland.
Through the winter frosted closed window pane
the barren landscape of life I see still and frozen.
In the empty room desire burns within fireplace,
the warmth doesn’t reach my cold heart void.
From dismal debris rises a new day in spring,
sunburst sky enters through window of yearning.
The lure of dreams on butterfly wings return,
I open the door to the last call for lonely hearts.
November 3, 2019
For Contest " LAST CALL FOR LONELY HEARTS - COLLABORATION"
Sponsored by Line Gauthier
Copyright © Subimal Sinha-Roy | Year Posted 2019
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