Rememberance! ! Poem by SEEMA SHARMA

Softly, in the dusk, he sings to me;
making me walk down to the years passed by, till I see
A known face sitting there in the dark, in the boom of the flowing strings
And touching the feet of the figure who sits nearby.
In spite of myself, I am unable to understand
the insidious mastery of the moment
that forces me back, till the heart of me weeps to belong
To the old days when my home was he, with winter outside…
So now it is vain for the lover to burst into tears
With the great black room I am in it does not make any sense to clamor.
The glamour of my love is gone, my senses reckon me
Down in the flood of remembrance, I weep like a child for the bygones.