She stood there, watching
the face break into giggles and squeals,
brow scrunched in intense concentration,
a voice that hummed along soft strains
merry feet and giddy moves,
He stood there watching
the sleep laden lids struggling,
the once palpitating heart, breaking
the listless body drifting
monologues and arguments in emptiness.
They hung there as they always had
through changing walls and rooms
the silent sentinels musing over
the ever changing fortunes
of their mistress and her lady luck.
painting whispers
( based on this glass painting of RadhaKrishna that my cousin sister Nimmi
made and gifted for my first wedding anniv.
A decade, three cities, a dead relationship later; they still hang on, my precious gift)
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Glad you made it this far...would love to hear your take on the words scribbled. A comment every now and then keeps the blues away. :D
Since, crazy Mr. Blogspot won't let me reply to the comments here (is upset with the water ladies ever since they refused to verify visitors)...will do the next best thing, drop in to your blog to say my Vanakkam/Namaste/Salaam/Hello.