Wholehearted Poem by Shreej k.c

One fine sunny morning I saw her
tune up her favourite music
finally open the windows and peek
to feel the fresh air.

There, I knew she was not the sort
to tease anyone with broken heart
rather wait patiently till she snatches
back every single stolen part.
May be that's why no one could easily fit
or play ever with a tinniest bit.

She was the sort who never believed
in first love or second love
rather vowed for love else no love.
May be that's what kept it fresh, did behove
and even in solitude she looked relieved.

She was the sort who would not just
find a love brick
rather travail, take chances, give chances
until they build a castle peak.
May be that's why she seemed at times
like a woebegone princess.

I can't help stun at her ease
Oh! how she does relax
as if she had been stretching the story
seeking just a proper climax.
Was the overlong suffering a choice
kept her held in slings.
May be that's why she needed none
to fix her broken wings.

While running comb slowly a day
through her tangled hair, I say:
But Anna, some do believe
-first ones go astray.
'May be then they do deserve
the most experienced ones
who for real know how to play' [grins]

Aww the grin! I just know it's her,
Wholehearted again.