I have forgotten much
I can't rehearse her touch
She the woman with a good fragrance
She played the piano then
The evenings burnt,as musk in sand
Selflessly giving his story in her hands
Lay bare the piano fronting her temperance
Heavy doors bolt remembrance
Dark as it was,it reflected her inverse
Made us make,to hear her,grandeur verse
Parched the throat and thirst made worse.
Sorched her face with a beaming grace.
She left the piano then,through those doors
Had a child of her own,she doesn't owe
The piano awaits her,she doesnt know
Heavy doors latched,enclosured in remembrance.
DAVIDJEEVRAJ. PUNE. 16062016
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