NOSTALGIA

O mystic traveler!

As a warm gentle waft,

You’re in thro’ the secret doors of my alcove;

Snuggled under the red satin quilt,

In gentle strokes you caressed

My thirsty body;

Whispering musical words,

In the naked voice of silence,

You stole my soul,

Left behind a sorrowful corpse.

Anita Bacha

Fistful of Sand IMG_7643

Sing a Song 

O! My foolish little bird!
Why are you perched on this desolate twig?
The leaves have yellowed and fallen,
The leaves have drifted away;
Your feathers as soft as pain,
Your silence drowns in rain;
O! My foolish little bird,
What love do you seek?

Anita Bacha


 
 
 
 https://m.facebook.com/Ani.Bacha/

NOSTALGIA

Nestled in my arms

You doze off like an angel

Your cheek resting against my breast

Your heart beating to the pace of my heart

I could stay here

Motionless

Watching your sleep

Rave about the moment of joy

To have you all to me

In the stillness of the night

To me all alone

Like the moon to the sky

Alas! The night passes

 The morning dawns

The sad reality of life hits me brutally

Awakens me from my slumber

I unlock my arms in a shudder

 Look one more time at your pretty face

And, I hold a cry of agony!

I swallow my tears!

I have to let you go!

– Anita Bacha –

(9 January 2014  TOMBEAU BAY)

Processed with Moldiv