Wednesday, January 20, 2010

Illusion




Entangled in silken cobwebs
of superfine images,
Ruffling the musty pages
of an old scrapbook,
I came across a sketch
of a dream house,
Now standing dilapidated
Fenced with weeds and twigs
instead of roses and marigolds;
Memories of dreams
lying shattered,
Fragments of broken glass
On frozen ice
The lost, lonely page
In the tattered copybook,
Still cries for you!

2 comments:

INDBrent said...

Very nice, I love how you use the condition of the house to reflect the state of the dreams once inside it.

Rajini said...

Thanks Brent! This is one of my earliest poems.