‘…a song of melancholy’

His life is a prison.
– His heart is caged.

A long gone lover,
– whose memory has aged.

He couldn’t hurt,
– the one he care.

“Letters you once wrote…”

Letters you once wrote.
affectionate gestures,
– ‘feelings in quotes.’

Still lies between the pages
– of my old diary.
Safely secured.

A short tryst of reverie

A short tryst of reverie,
Down the lane of memory
they sat in contentment
In silence of their preference.

Beneath the stars by the woods
Dwelt in their deeds of goods.