There was a soft sound, almost a whisper on the window. It was dark with a little brightness in between the violet clouds, as the crescent challenges them and tries to appear and enlighten the night.
The small whisper called again. She headed towards the source, opened the window to be draped with that oh so beautiful fragrance of the small white flower. She touched the calling leaves scribbling on the damp glass words and words, lines and lines of an old story.
She traced the lines, to hear the notes of the whispering tree, the smiles of the playful breeze, and to move with the movement of a graceful dance.
She looked at the figure that came to inspect the noise " your Lemon Tree is telling me your story"... " your Lemon Tree is tracing your love, and is dancing with your grace and elegance"...
"your Lemon Tree, is whispering in almost a scream, your hidden scream"
The Lemon Tree scribbled, nodded and danced the night with her breeze.
It was almost a whisper, it was almost a scream.
Monday, 18 April 2011
Monday, 11 April 2011
Echoes
She found that the first word her velvety pencil started to scribe was a "tear". She wasn't feeling sad, but a tear reminded her of a crystal chandelier her beloved nan used to have.
She closed her eyes, and started seeing the sun's bright rays reflecting on each of the crystal drops, and how hints of the rainbow shades coloured the walls of the room. She saw her nan passing through the isles of flowers in the garden, with her hands clasped behind her, and her cheeks as pink as the roses she loved.
She heard the tune of an old song, chanted by that missed compassionate voice, heard from behind the windows overlooking these isles of pink roses. Echoes of innocence; echoes of beauty.. she thought.
The four letters of a tear, made her smell her past. Four small letters made her realise that beauty lays within sadness and happiness. Beauty of a tearful eye, can bring the most vulnerable emotions, waves and waves of echoes, dear and far beloved echoes.
She opened her eyes, to find one word sitting in the middle of the page, smudged by a wet spot. She opened her eyes, but she can still see that lady chanting her old song, and smelling these pink roses.
Thursday, 7 April 2011
Brown Eyes
He sat in the corner, sipping his coffee, and observing the street from the shop window. He was thinking about his day, where to spend it, and how to spend it. Suddenly he saw this woman!!
She approached the window to read the menu, when her eyes locked with his look, with his brown eyes. She voyaged the valleys he had crossed, and embraced the trees he had touched.
She devoured the words he had read, and melted in the coffee that was getting cold.
She forgot what she was doing, moved back to hear her friend 's voice murmuring some words... "He is so handsome... You are right to keep looking"
With surprise she asked.. "was he??!!!" .. "I didn't know. All I could see was how his brown eyes made me feel beautiful, how I was reflected in his look, and the hint of smile and warmth in his eyes... Was he?! How would I know? I was mesmerised with the scenes I witnessed and the journeys I travelled."
He came out of the shop, looking for this woman, waiting to be seized and taken apart again with the look of her brown eyes. Waiting to see himself divine again."
Brown eyes, looking at each other reflecting their emotions, and drawn with the beauty they uncovered...
John Erskine said: A beautiful woman, is the one I notice. A charming woman is the one that notices me.
She approached the window to read the menu, when her eyes locked with his look, with his brown eyes. She voyaged the valleys he had crossed, and embraced the trees he had touched.
She devoured the words he had read, and melted in the coffee that was getting cold.
She forgot what she was doing, moved back to hear her friend 's voice murmuring some words... "He is so handsome... You are right to keep looking"
With surprise she asked.. "was he??!!!" .. "I didn't know. All I could see was how his brown eyes made me feel beautiful, how I was reflected in his look, and the hint of smile and warmth in his eyes... Was he?! How would I know? I was mesmerised with the scenes I witnessed and the journeys I travelled."
He came out of the shop, looking for this woman, waiting to be seized and taken apart again with the look of her brown eyes. Waiting to see himself divine again."
Brown eyes, looking at each other reflecting their emotions, and drawn with the beauty they uncovered...
John Erskine said: A beautiful woman, is the one I notice. A charming woman is the one that notices me.
Tuesday, 5 April 2011
Stay
"Do not leave! Stay here"
She heard those whispers repeated and again.
She looked at the lips moving with the words, dry and trembling. She looked at the eyes and witnessed a plea within them. She touched the drop of sweat on the frowning forehead and pulled herself away.
"Why should I stay? why not go on the journey and experience those time zones. Why not dance with every melody heard, and play in every field of greens; hold the golden sand with my hands, and kiss the golden leaves of Autumn. Why not just be free? why is it difficult to let go, and easy to hold on. Staying chained to the same heartbeat, and the same memory?"
She looked at that face, smiled and left...
Words heard from behind the closing door
"Mirror, I'm going to be late?"
She heard those whispers repeated and again.
She looked at the lips moving with the words, dry and trembling. She looked at the eyes and witnessed a plea within them. She touched the drop of sweat on the frowning forehead and pulled herself away.
"Why should I stay? why not go on the journey and experience those time zones. Why not dance with every melody heard, and play in every field of greens; hold the golden sand with my hands, and kiss the golden leaves of Autumn. Why not just be free? why is it difficult to let go, and easy to hold on. Staying chained to the same heartbeat, and the same memory?"
She looked at that face, smiled and left...
Words heard from behind the closing door
"Mirror, I'm going to be late?"
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