Evenings feel…
That shade of dusk
A bride that loses
Almost in a blink, her blush-
Quietens, sobers
And slips into night…
Evenings come…
Never too quickly,
When bright light quite dries
Out, and squeezes the heart
Of that last bit of hope, of succor…
Evenings be…
That utterly soft blanket
That keeps you sane
As you map your thoughts
Fashion from them a meaning
That will be a mild placebo
To help negotiate another
Sleepless night.
Evenings.
When I wait, not knowing
Yet knowing,
Somehow, no matter who
You be, that day…
You will be.
And slip between those thoughts.
Shepherd them.
Pen(n) them.
Before night gathers me
For its own.
5 April, 2017
Day#5 of #Napowrimo, 2017 – National Poetry Writing Month 2017
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April 5, 2017 at 3:30 am
So beautiful
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April 24, 2017 at 8:16 am
Thank you so much!
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April 24, 2017 at 8:39 pm
Dearest Usha you are so welcome poetess
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April 14, 2017 at 12:22 pm
Evening’s soft light and feel
Oft makes things surreal
Before you encumber
Night’s sweet slumber
Which, that squeezed succor, will heal!
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April 16, 2017 at 10:39 pm
🙂 Thank you Gulshan!
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May 3, 2017 at 4:00 pm
In life too, evenings seep
with the night creeping ready to leap
counting days, when you can finally sleep
without having to count jumping sheep.
Liked the pun with pen(n). Maybe why i thought of sheep. 🙂
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May 9, 2017 at 9:27 am
Glad you got that word play 🙂 Really really so 🙂 Thank you Govind!
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May 14, 2017 at 12:21 pm
Reminded me of this https://youtu.be/UmfXm2T8OQs
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