The Little AngelA Poem by Namrata NandagopalA poem from my book, 'MIROIR'. A young girl approaches the poet with a picnic basket on a warm evening...
Whilst the evening breeze blew into my face
I rambled down the tender slopes at a brisk pace. The setting sun partially blinding my vision; It was hard to see the endless path facing me and make a decision- To go back home and rest in covers Or to wait till the sun sets, bringing forth the moonlit hours. Then, I saw a girl standing before me Holding a dainty bloom in her hands. She had a picnic basket of creamy white buns And jam rolls wrapped neatly in bands. She led me to a corner where the bordering fence Was tainted jade by clammy moss; I was offered a cream bum and some lemonade Which I accepted politely and ate. Her smile was so overwhelming, for she was just a child Whose name I never enquired; whose words I never heard. Her dense black tresses and promising little eyes, Her skin softer than a paste of ground rice Can never be forgotten by me, as I have never seen Someone like her, fit to be crowned a queen. © 2017 Namrata NandagopalAuthor's Note
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StatsAuthorNamrata NandagopalTrivandrum, xx, IndiaAboutI'm Namrata Nandagopal, a student of STRS!!! I'm a writer and a reader... I've published a book of poems called 'miroir'. I love to write prose. Besides that, I sing Western music and play the keyboa.. more..Writing
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