Ripened Love
P Pradip Chattopadhyay
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She didn't speak,
Just went on with her work
Of giving her home a facelift.
An ethereal urge filled me
To be near her, touch her a little
And add my hands to the touch up.
The air was rich with the aroma
Of the coming of the season of joy.
I knew something never grows old,
Never requires a word or even a look.
In silence we rained love on each other!
Bu şiiri puanla
Henüz puan verilmemiş