Mea culpa, my child
You were frail, frailer your fate,
Mayhap, fate so beguiled,
Your sad eyes sure looked for me,
O my ill-fated child.
Me, too far away to welcome you,
You had no time to wait,
Admired in father’s fond arms
On that ill-fated date.
Helpless to hold you to heart,
Welcome you to my world,
Let me the least give white rose—
A bit frail now, nigh curled.
Amidst piles of painful thoughts,
In a time-warped wan wave,
I often see your pale soul,
Would see it till my grave.,
You came to us long years back,
A bit pallid and pale,
What a sore punch time did pack,
A gust of wind, now gale.
And as I give this white rose,
Why, I do wonder wild,
To turn the page and feel good?
No, get not riled my child.
My guilt to admit, my child,
For not being with you,
Let your life be filled with pink,
And roses of every hue.
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Musings |03.05.2024| reminisce, remember, rose
Copyright ©
Aniruddha Pathak
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