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Arti Chopra

Rookie (16 Nov 1953 / Jammu)


The leaves
they keep falling
russet, brown.gold
pain blows sweetly
In a haunting, swift wind
carrying old forgotten memories
that brush whisperingly, against the cheeks
you loved to caress.

Autumn leaves....
I cannot forget them,
drenched in yesterday's dew,
like my tears,
that shine like pearls of a sweet sadness
touched by the warm hues, of a glorious autumn

The sun's rays shine hopefully
and light up with molten gold,
my reflections.......
as they submerge joyously
in autumns hopeful glance.

Hope rears its weary eyes
in acceptance, of what had to be,
as this season's glory sings silently
of renewal and permanence.

The colous
change, over swiftly passing days
as if with a magic wand,
weaving beautiful tapestries
of life's intricate threads.

Hues of ochre, orange peach and purple
Born from the womb of a glowing sunset
Change swiftly over passing days
hold me in thrall,
and like a magic wand
weave beautiful tapestries of life's golden threads

My spirits lifts in a joyous pirouette
as a glorious autumn smilingly
signals the leaves to their welcoming beds,
and my heart begins to sing softly
in a new hope.

Submitted: Sunday, September 22, 2013
Edited: Monday, September 23, 2013

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