Peeling of the Fruit
Restricted in the edge, among
Those thousands stories, a
Maiden’s story waited to be twisted.
“Here or there? Oh! That”, yet a
Nakedness rested in to be drifted.
She shrugged at the thought,
Smiled to another layer.
Sensing soon a hand and
A voice near her ear.
“LOOK. The birds flying from
One tree to another branch.
To the corner, to that house.
You have wings too,
Lift your feet, for that rouse.”
He moved a bit ahead her,
In his prints she stepped.
Air, the breeze, the trees grew warmly
Shedding behind thick sheets
Of her loved fruit calmly.
Sonam Sharma
1 year agoBeautiful work 😊😊keep it up👍👍👍
Sheveta Singh
1 year agoThank you
Tanya Panta
1 year ago‘A maiden’s story waited to be twisted.’
Really liked this.
Keep writing!
Sheveta Singh
1 year agoThank you so much..