A blog by Anjana Sen
Can you see these faces on the wall?
The boy and girl in a tight embrace.
I know them all, figures big and small,
As they move around and change their place.
Can you read that book up in the sky?
They aren’t just clouds, what’s that you say?
Look, that’s a rabbit, a fluffy lion, up high,
Un-focus your mind, it’s easier that way.
Oh, wicked image, why do you tease?
Did you think this would please?
My weariness ease?
This image I see.
A double bed in white
All made up for me,
Waiting all night.
Crisp clean sheets taunt,
The pillows, their comfort flaunt,
While fatigue and sleep haunts
Sleep deprived eyesight.
Those smells which hang in the air,
A little whiff and it takes you there.
Feels nice.
When fevers were frightened away
By dad’s hankies drenched in Old Spice
And watered ice.
Do we stick to generated themes?
Or do we stray?
Do we write reams and reams?
Or lose our way?
Keep to the script, mind the prompt,
That is so what I want to do.
I like the rules, discipline, boundaries,
You guess it, I’m OCD too.
She jogs beside me, this child so sweet,
I knew her well, a long time ago.
We look ahead most of the time,
But share little smiles as we go.
Does she like me at all, I wonder now?
Her approval really matters.
Does she think I’ve done all right?
I wish she’d stop and chatter.