Participate in the 3rd Season of STORYMIRROR SCHOOLS WRITING COMPETITION - the BIGGEST Writing Competition in India for School Students & Teachers and win a 2N/3D holiday trip from Club Mahindra
Participate in the 3rd Season of STORYMIRROR SCHOOLS WRITING COMPETITION - the BIGGEST Writing Competition in India for School Students & Teachers and win a 2N/3D holiday trip from Club Mahindra

Sheeba Jasmine

Inspirational


3.5  

Sheeba Jasmine

Inspirational


Across My Window Sill

Across My Window Sill

2 mins 20.7K 2 mins 20.7K

Across my window sill

 

Across my window sill I see,

A rose so bashful to the gentle breeze,

Smiling, she twitches her petals so red,

Yielding to the embrace of the new morn dew,

So fresh and fragrant seemed the bright daylight,

As bright as my Emilie, my love, my life.

 

Our path had feelings, tears and love,

With love at its peak, we made the nuptial vow,

Twisting and turning, stumbling and shinning,

Weaving hopes, we walked abreast,

Our path was greenest and fresh of all,

When tiny feet of three joined our path.

 

Leaves were green, flowers in bloom,

Laughter filled every room,

Chattering and chirping we colored our path,

Plunging our buds into our sea of love,

We smiled to their joys, anguished to their tears,

Their petty tasks too salient to our heart.

 

Chasing their dreams wearied were we,

Wrinkles, aches, illness in company,

Beautiful, my Emilie in silver locks,

A charm so splendid, I loved her more,

But, her recent charm I knew not though,

Was greying away her heart so pure.

 

In a moment, once I stood aghast,

To see her serenely breathe her last,

I walked down the valleys, pastures and shores,

In despair, I saw all closed doors,

Emily, my Emily, she’d gone, she’d gone,

The path ahead I knew not, how long.

 

There was then I knew I weighed more often,

Too heavy for my buds and their little heaven,

When their toothaches too puny, ate up my nights,

I found them vexed at my aches and feebleness,

Unable to hold, unable to walk,

But able at heart so vivaciously strong.

 

Across my window sill, I see not now,

My buds and my tender buds whom I love,

Was it a farewell final they bade?

To me and my new abode of windows alone,

No, No, they’ll come one fine day,

And I’ll say a fond farewell to my rusted window sill.

 


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