MUSING
It is late at night
I am waiting to write
He sends no thoughts
For me to start
Just the starting line
I need from him
Rest will flow
On paper with ease
First line to last
is all too fast
For nothing is mine
Not even a line
No charm in making things
from head
Not a lifeless thesis to be read
I want the sweetness
that comes from him
It is the throbbing hearts that
I crave to win
Ready I am to go to bed
Give them in dreams
I am too tired dead.
c/r@sunita grover raina2021
11/10/21
India
photo credit net
