A romance of times,
my emotions desired to be clad
a fifteen-year bond,
words playing game of hide and seek.
Thoughts cajoling words lazing on some days
on other days, relishing the five-star buffet
picking the exquisite ones.
Words eager as in the game of musical chair
parking at right places, thoughts patting words,
the unlucky ones exit.
the therapeutic delivery, cessation of pangs
the numerous stanzas shaping
a poem at the end
a joyful process each time
I write poetry.
The same joy recurs
as when I saw the toothless old lady
with bent frame on the street
and rushed to come home to
write my first poem.
Her smile so beautiful
only poetry aptly couching
my thoughts with right words.
