Sounds of the playground,
laughter of girls,
as they watch boys at play.
The rush of ad reline through veins,
as a ball flies,
taking flight like a stooping bird.
Shes mesmerised.
Spices fill the air,
tempting taste buds.
The aroma embodying free spirits,
eyes on doors.
No one makes a sound,
the silence is deafening
as each awaits.
Touch lingers long afterwards,
through stolen moments.
Flacks in snow, lost memories
warm tears refuse to leave.
Still night, as she stares into darkness
standing tall, with pride.
Her head held high,
a proud mother
Who just gave birth.
No longer afraid.
The aroma of spices remind her of her roots
which bind her, whisper to her,
nurture her in their hold
and lay dreams on horizons still to prevail.
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my first entry on here...hope you all enjoy it...
