Neatly pressed in those pages
Turned golden
Is my red rose
Turned golden
Are the days of yore.
Carrying soft fragrance
Of some old world
Still preserved in those petals.
Takes me to a place
Where winning some silly game
My cheers grow loud
And your eyes gleamed
I didn’t know
Why!
A smile collected
On a page
A page etched
Of a rose.
Red.. yellow.. Gold..
My life nothing
But strokes
Of few fond colours.
15 comments:
Tuli....
This is marvellous.
You are my little wonder.
Take care.
Very nicely posted...great job
Beautifully put. Loved the closing lines.
absolutely spell binding :)superb tulika... its beautiful :)
take care and keep writing..........
Wow. I loved the way things moved from gold to red to page to past to one precious smile to back to rose-page.
Fond memories revisited. A beautiful moment re-lived.
A sweet lil' post here.
Hmmm as such I love roses .. But to have a rose that has turned golden reminding you fo That Day or Those days that were.. what more would one want ..
The eyes gelamed hmmmm
Excellent words tulika ..
Last too para's were too good..!!
:)
AWWW i like it:) beautifully put
Nice poem... Yaadein yaad aathi hain... :)
Beautiful...I love these things, roses, peacock feather, leaves in a book...lovely :)
That was beautiful! Very well expressed!Loved it!
Beautiful use of the imagery of the a red rose turned golden with age... :) - amazing poetry as always (excuse the oxymoron :D)
@ All:
Thanks.
:)
Beautiful it is..!!!
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