Lost in the stars

Lying on our backs,  in summer blankets,  gazing at the dome of the sky,  the stars and constellations  sprayed like fine glitteri...

Sunday, August 27, 2017

A poem

A poem tangled
in my capillaries,
syllables of scattered thoughts
stuck in the web of uncertainties.
I catch the words,
casually tossed in air,
and juxtapose them
so that they settle down
in a meaningful rhyme
but the clock ticks away
yet another hour
and I delete yet another draft.
Then playing with my thoughts,
I ink your name on a blank paper,
your full name,
and it reads like
a poem scribbled to perfection.
What could be better than this?