PAST

I wake up to the beauty of the morning sun and the liveliness of the train. The scent of tea from an adjacent seat evokes memories of a past time and him. His love for tea was as much as mine for watching him make it every morning. Sharing his mornings and tea with my apartment rent was an indelible routine of my graduation. I smile to myself thinking that he's the reason why I made a last-minute plan to attend this otherwise mundane reunion. This time, I intend to tell him what he's yearning to hear.

-

The sun isn't
very forgiving
on my pen today.
My verses are left
half burnt
in the heat.
And my pages are
stained with remnants
of chilled water
and ice cream.

-

Sometimes, April is the poet
I write about in my blank spaces.
Farewell, April - a poet
on a journey of finding verses
like you and me.

-DEEP_THoughts!— % &And April is a poet
who gave me a 100 pages
notebook for a 30 day month.
April is a poet
writing verses
through you and me.

-DEEP_THoughts!— % &Sometimes, April is the poet
I write about in my blank spaces.
Farewell, April - a poet
on a journey of finding verses
like you and me.

-DEEP_THoughts!— % &

-

A blank page
sits in front of me.
My pen takes care
of the Monday blues
as I take up the mundane
task of crafting a letter
to a poet.
And blank spaces
make more sense
when you fail to find
words of praise.
April, a poet I appreciate
in the blank spaces
of my verses.

-

Today I'm one story
short of being the perfect
storyteller.
I asked my pen,
should I keep weaving
those little things
into masterpieces?
My pen replies
it's a choice.
And I choose to
be a storyteller every day.

-

I dived into colors today.
My absolute favorite,
my second favorite,
and hues of your eyes
drowning me in their Greens.
My verses are colored
in stories of you and me.

-

My pen fancies another
short verse today.
I sip some cool water,
rewinding the week
for the weekend.
A new project, a new show,
a new song - my highlights.
And Friday drives me to
look forward to Mondays.

-

As the smile reaches
your eye wrinkles,
I'm mesmerized by your voice
singing a new story.
My pen favours
a short verse today-
you, me and your song.

-

Some days, progress is
a snail you want to befriend
and patience is
my favorite cup of chai.
My desk looks like a lover
waiting for a letter,
while my fingers
love backspaces and blank pages.
Inspiration is like the summer rain,
unforeseen yet key.
But the heart wants what it wants
everyday - love notes
adorned with tiny hearts.
That's what April does to you.

-

Forgotten corners,
hold memories
of us, where echoes
of our laugh hides,
where scent of our stories resides.
Our late night cuddles,
sharing my chocolate ice cream
with you, and you know I never share.
Cozy stories of how my heart
felt safe in your presence.
Coffee conversations
on foggy mornings,
where you love to listen
and I love to see you talk.
Life happens yet,
forgotten corners
never forget us.

-