The ink and the quill

While my heart throbs in the
Misty mornings of winter
Thy soul snuggles for some warmth in my words
I paint the sky saffron embracing thou

Years ago
beside you under the mulberry tree
you had asked
while scribbling
my name on  dust of a storm
will thy  be mine
I had nodded
carving thou  inside deep notches

Births later
We sit and dream
Away from one another by  seven  seas
will there be a common sky
a single roof where 
you would be the ink and  I, the quill .

©soumya vimg_20161028_182637

3 thoughts on “The ink and the quill

  1. Britton November 29, 2016 / 10:37 am

    Words are sometimes illusional! Don’t they?

    • soumyav November 29, 2016 / 10:55 am

      Hi Britton! Good to hear from you after so long. How have you been?
      Words can be illusional, can be true or real ,depends where and how they are used.

      • Britton November 29, 2016 / 7:20 pm

        Just keep becoming in love!
        And you?

        … what I meant, the words of reality is so unpoetic.

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