Combing
through the rubbles of my hoary house,
I came
across some whispers;In the corner near the inglenook I can hear the wild flowers,
The dankness could be tear drops from my childhood,
The fights and hollers breaking the silence of the wood;
Mother whispering!
The New Year cakes and all those modest food.
I can
feel the waft passing through the once stout door,
Whispering
a ditty from some bygone shore;Whispering sunshine, today and before!
Whispers all around I long for more!
