Whenever someone asks me,
"How did I start writing poems?",
The first thing that comes
Up in my mind instead
Of its answer is your face,
And those eyes – big , black,
And beautiful in their own
Unique way – and how I
Was frozen by their power
And could not look away
As they tried to search
For an answer to the same
Question even though those clever stars
Knew that the reason laid
Beneath their shine, and then
A violent shudder brings me
Back from my favourite labyrinth
Again to the taped question,
And I, as always, say
That the secret lies in
Those eyes– forever inquisitive to
Read what is in my mind–
And so I scribble, and
That scribble transforms into a
Poem owing to the beauty
Of the beautiful that finds
Beauty even in the withering
Weeds just like this line,
Which is now a poetry...
@iam
@dgtoonsRead next
From @dgtoons