262 of 15,400

It was a cold ride to an unknown place,
I took a winding, broken road,
Wet and gravelly around purple ponds,
And I suitably inured.

It was a friend's beautiful home
With four Persian cats no less,
Amidst those pretty felines
Was me sweating in duress.

Sometimes people say some things
And you feel the building up of walls
And sometimes you say stuff back
Petty Chronicles of your falls

At some point there were copper cups
With coffee served all hot
At some point there was a sadness
Or maybe, just a joy that was not

A home exhales such memories
Of times when the heart didn't win
But with the peaceful purring of the cats
You know the sunrise will peep in.






Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Check (the) mate

Not the same, all the same - Rang de Basanti, being a Hindu, uniform civil code, and Hostage – in that unrelated sequence

Save the Indian (male) child