Rm.Shanmugam Chettiar.

(June 15,1942 / Aravayal, karaikudi, Tamil Nadu, South India)

Visalakshi


Her husband is dead.
Tragic or pleasing news!
That too in a car accident.
She was my love five decades back.
Our sojourn was a month
In her village where I chanced to stay.
Loveliness and gracefulness
Combined, she was a lotus.
No wonder, I loved her.
It is wonder, she loved me.
She loved me more
Than I loved her, the poor.
Her love was pure and genuine.
My love was daring and fast.
Our eyes crossed and then talked.
Our lips talked and then touched.
It is the virgin love for the both.
She sanctioned my visit once
To her house and to the room
Where we were closeted.
She believed me to such extent
That she conceded to be undraped
And surrendered to my trust.
Too tender in age, I deserted her.
It took three decade for me
To trace her and meet her.
Then she was not a lotus
But reminded me of a cactus,
Aging being prominent.

Now she is a widow.
I am not a widower.
Otherwise, I would have wiped
The sin I committed to her.
31.12.2007

Submitted: Saturday, April 11, 2009
Edited: Sunday, May 24, 2009

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  • Freshman - 1,082 Points Duh Huh (4/14/2009 2:01:00 AM)

    A touching story of a youthful indiscretion that led to a lifetime of regret. Experty depicted, the imagery took me back to my own youth. Thank you for sharing. (Report) Reply

  • Freshman - 1,082 Points Catrina Heart (4/14/2009 1:33:00 AM)

    This reminds me of a similar story though more of younger years than yours.....daring days of youthfulness...Sad, your love story didnt bring you happy ending.........Nice poetic story you have made here.........Different from others...10 (Report) Reply

  • Freshman - 1,082 Points Barry A. Lanier (4/14/2009 1:07:00 AM)

    a lovely and moving reminiscence of an old love, somewhat more complex yet reminding me off such thoughts I wrote in my poem 'One of These Days' often revisiting the past in melancholy and regret (Report) Reply

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