She wore white and flinched.
All these years, lavender was her color.
Lavender were the sheer curtains rising and falling with the wind.
The velvety pillow covers on which she rested her head to read.
Her closet had different shades of lavender,
Plum-colored scarves, mauve satin shirt,
Floral lilac dresses, amethyst gems in the rings.
Wine-colored sweaters, regal purple heels.
The sheets on the bed had stains of lavender.
The light shaded rug on the floor was faded in purple.
In a frenzy, she had painted the wall in the corner of her room purple.
The hanging basket in her balcony bloomed with fake mulberries.
On cold days of winter, she sipped hot chocolate from her periwinkle mug,
While a lavender throw lay at her feet.
The streaks on her auburn hair were purple.
Her nails painted purple.
Today, she had to forego the purple crown.
For a white bridal gown.
Tag: poem
Go Back to Sleep
What’s this sunlight outside my window on a cold autumn day,
Is it summer again?
Please tell me it’s summer!
So, I can wear my floral dresses and walk down the streets,
Without fearing the chillness on the tips of my earlobes.
Can I eat a fudgy ice cream sandwich cake for breakfast?
Alas, my weather app says 4 degree Celsius
Or, should I rather say 39 degree Fahrenheit.
Albeit, it’s all the same, it is still cold outside.
So, I might as well grab my comforter
And snuggle deep inside it again.
Snailed It
Day 31 Inktober – Crawl
Crawling through 2020,
Inktober drawings saved each day,
And I guess I snailed it.
*End of Inktober 2020*
Black Raven
Day 30 Inktober – Ominous
It was a full moon night,
A black raven was in sight,
Was that a howling cry?
Something ominous seems to arise.
Walking with You
On slippery slopes,
On rocky uneven terrain,
On snow piled grounds,
On long roads ahead,
You‘be been a saviour and companion.
Thank you for making my walks easy and comfortable,
Dear trek shoes!
Dig In
Day 24 Inktober – Dig
The mole put on his miner’s hat
To dig some coal
So he could eat warm worms in the cold.
Walking in Dunes
The sun is setting,
The walk is long,
The dunes never ending,
But I must go on.
Butterly Fingers
In a hurry,
He applied butter on his toast
Wiped his hands on his clothes
Picked up his coffee mug
Looked down with a shrug
His face full of worry
His buttery fingers were no good in a hurry!
In the twilight,
Holding a lantern in her hand,
She stepped out to sit beside him.
On the wooden bench
Overlooking the sea.
Together, they watched the calm waves.
There was a soft glow in the sky, a slight chill.
From the radio, a melodious tune filled the air.
They looked into each other’s battle-scarred eyes.
The sweet rhythm moved them to dance.
Slowly,
Lovingly,
Entwined in a warm embrace
They swayed like the waves
On their wooden porch.
In the soft glow of the night.
Tender
The mind – a dim, hazy blur.
Restless muscles, not a second of comfort.
Deprived of sleep, a walking soulless spirit of the nights.
Mornings seem dark and groggy.
Every day, a new kind of pain.
Writing in the present state,
A futile attempt.
Nuraine Sadaf 