![]() Blue FriendA Poem by Floating on the feathers of a dandelion
I am seven, Have a blue friend, Sky. Its blue, bluer than my new dress. I stare at the blue, And it ogles back. Surprised at my miniscule existence, Ostensible innocence, And, impregnable ability to pose questions. But surprises me by its silence. Yet we are the best friends ! I accompany it, And it accompanies me even to the narrowest lanes. Never leaves me ! We play hide and seek, I hide and it seeks me. Sometimes, not with an earnest attempt to find me, So we fight. And I go and sit at the highest peak, Amidst small green shrubs, That’s our secret meeting place, Annoyed me, wait for an apology, Fake egoist ! I hit it with small pebbles, I collected on my way. And sulk away. Sky and I don’t speak for hours. “I’m going back home.’ And sky opposes, thunders hard, Black clouds surround me to not let me go. “I’m not listening.” And a pure cold drop of water touches my protruded lip, Another on my cheek, And the tip on my little nose. Tricking me in the best way. I stare up, chuckle, and it rains harder. Drench me. “Okaaaaay, I forgive !” I smile and wink. Turn back humming, Make way through the narrow paths, Made by me treading up and down to my friend. Splash on the puddles of water. Try to catch every drop in my tiny palms curved into a bowl. Amazed to watch the droplet on the leaf, Slithering to another leaf, And then to another, Making a zigzag way. I go a little down; the path is overwhelmed by rains, I take off my slipper, Let it go ahead, float with tiny waves. And I wade through, My frock pumped up to a balloon. I am ecstatic! I stare up, Open my mouth, swallow some rain, A gesture to forgive my blue friend Spattering playfully, Making way back to home !
© 2008 Floating on the feathers of a dandelionFeatured Review
Reviews
|
Stats
793 Views
37 Reviews Shelved in 4 Libraries
Added on February 16, 2008Author![]() Floating on the feathers of a dandelionUnderneath blueeeeeeeeee sky, IndiaAboutHmmm.... About me ?!?!? I am what i would have wanted myself to be, i am a butterfly when i want to tickle the flowers, i am a bird when i want to compete with the flecks of cotton, i am the river whe.. more..Writing
Related WritingPeople who liked this story also liked..
|