She'd cross over my threshold.
She'd smile at me morosely.
She'd beacon me to follow her.
Â
I'd resist.
I'd beg for forbearance
to celebrate
Â
The song of the crackling
autumnal leaves beneath my feet.
The relish of snowball.
The tang of lemonade.
The kiss of the beloved.
The bliss of solitude.
The tranquility of freedom.
The expanse of horizon.
Â
She'd embrace my infirm form.
She'd delicately extricate me
from the cobwebs of Mammon.
Â
At last,
I'd relent.
Â
--
Poet's Note: The poet muses that the thought of Death compels him to embrace life as a celebration.
Â
© All rights reserved, 2012 by Ratandeep Satwant Singh
recommend
Facebook
Twitter
bookmark 
print
Comments: 31
Thanks for sharing and submitting to
The Surreal Circus.
Make your own banner at MyBannerMaker.com!
"She'd embrace my infirm form.
She'd delicately extricate me
from the cobwebs of Mammon." I loved this image...death extricating us from our life. Death must be a Marine... "They leave no one behind."
"Must I go?"
"You must!"
Thank you submitting to Gathers Luminous Writers and Artists. Now Featured.
Tweeted!
Also thanks a ton for the advice. I shall definitely to incorporate it in my future works.