The paintings at Louvre
A half-drunk coffee cup
Stephnie Meyer’s ‘Breaking Dawn’
Can all be topics for a good poem.
But, have you ever looked into his eyes?
It takes courage to look into them,
And not fall in love!
Under a blanket of glowing stars,
We spoke of long-forgotten poems
And unfinished pieces of art
Just then, I looked
Into his auburn eyes!
It reminds me of the autumn leaves
I often preserve one, in between the pages of an unfinished novel
But everytime, it breaks into pieces
I stare into them again.
Now they remind me of the pebbles
Beside the violent sea
I try to paint my name,
But every time, it’s washed away
Maybe I’ll dare to look into them again,
One, last time
This time , I’m reminded of the endless sand deserts
I try to leave my footprints
But every time, the winds blow them off
Often I try to define a poem,
But every time, his eyes astound me,
Leaving me wordless!
If not poems, then what are they?
Those deep, auburn eyes of his?
Yes, they’re poems,
Unread and uncherished!
Poems can never be defined,
By poets like me…”
Author:- Phoojaa Krishnamoorthi