Tuesday, 10 May 2011

Beyond the Tuscan Sun

When capricious and arbitrary thoughts cross my mind,I end up scribbling something equally capricious as this following poem(you can call it that!):


Basking in the sentiments,
that elude distant memories,
I promise to return tomorrow.

The sands speak a language
that is ours,only ours.
I hear the bells again,
reminding me,
of my promise to return tomorrow.

The sun creeps into my room,
veiling not the blinkers,
but the story they seem to tell,
for tomorrow is yet to come.

Tomorrow,the world shall see,
that you and me were meant to be,
Alas!today,I must retire,
for today,I set myself free.

2 comments:

Barnashree Khasnobis said...

Superb. You should have writtin one parah more.. :) Yur poem reminds me of Robert Frost. Wish to read more of your poems.

Over the Unheard Sand said...

Thank you so much Bernashree.
You are you generous with the compliment.
Robert Frost is a juxtapose.
However,do keep reading.