Old house
Few of them I left behind,
Few friends are sunshine;
My homeland, the known terrain,
My old home is still kind,
Every Closet is filled with memories,
Some enormous and few secret stories;
Those young souls are old now,
I never saw them grow somehow;
Now when I look at life,
It engages and always divides,
The old house has mysterious eyes,
Jingle, tinkle, rattle, clink…
Continuous…the boat of Life.
Fabulous poem, Shams!
ReplyDelete@AmitAag Thanks Amit
ReplyDeleteWarm words - nostalgic !!
ReplyDeleteBeautiful poem:)
ReplyDeleteYou write so well. I like how you select your topic:D
ReplyDeleteThose who still have the old house are really lucky.
ReplyDeleteyou know what Kaif says?
Kaif pardes men mat yaad karo apna makaan,
abke baarish ne use tod giraya hoga!!!
@muthu Thank you muthu
ReplyDelete@Rupertt Wind Thank you Rupertt
ReplyDelete@Ghazala Hossain Thank you Ghazala...happy that you like my work ..
ReplyDelete@indu chhibber Rightfully said! yes...We..in our quest of moving ahead in life tend to crash the best of our memories at times.
ReplyDeletesome writers amaze with the depth in their thoughts rightfully selecting words and stitching them into verses .. you are indeed one of them.. left me thinking !!
ReplyDeleteThank you...you have inspired me :-)
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