Bench Poem by Mrunaliniraje Nimbalkar

From a large tree to a bench,
In infinite memoirs I wrench.

Ghastly winds and heavy rains,
Sunny days and warm smiles
all seen time and again.

The genial exuberance echoes elegance,
Nothingness is never in vain,
With typified modesty, my poise I retain.

Sharing each happiness sorrow and grief,
sometimes loneliness in brief,
Peace of mind and quietness then creeps.

Clouds edged with pink and gold,
through sunrise and sunsets many a stories unfold,
As many as I befriend, there is a brief encounter and then the end.

I stay my ground,
Left with a vast emptiness but hope profound,
I wait for the next company around.

© Mrunalini.D.Nimbalkar

Sometimes I feel and imagine that a non living thing like a bench or chair has many a stories to tell...only if it had a voice! !
The lifeless piece of furniture becomes a treasure chest of memories. Abstract thinking