• zeee_zephyrs 25w


    With only seventeen sunflowers in my garden
    still I sit here writing about life
    but my pen seems repellent
    towards those sullen pages
    and moves to an old, blank canvas,
    starts with a vacuous stroke
    to give a monochromatic shade of green
    and narrate tales of these flowers.

    Four sunflowers were blooming in a beeline but
    as the fifth one bloomed a stroke of black(fear) was added
    'cause during its realm, a soft, nascent hand
    slipped off her parents' fingers,
    in the turmoil of the streets
    but she was blessed with good luck
    and this time holded the hands tightly
    along with the fear of being left alone.

    The fourteenth sunflower seemed sanguine
    a stroke of yellow(hope) was added and green was fading
    but when was life prosaic and without some piquant?
    when this slender figure, rose upto a great height
    on tawny hills, above clouds for trekking
    what if my legs would have slipped,
    followed by an earthward plummet
    I swear, this time I felt close to you, to death.

    The graph of this journey is affluent with ups and downs,
    petrichors were always pleasant,
    until they turned into storms, but
    'I am not afraid of storms,
    for I am learning how to sail my ship'
    and the canvas of these seventeen sunflowers
    is exuberant with variegate shades except grey
    and with remnants of each downfall.

    Maybe when the stroke of grey(old age) will be added
    along with strokes of red for love,
    yellow for happiness
    and blue for responsibility,
    what if these three get mixed
    and lead to black, to death?
    the graph will cease
    and canvas will be complete.

    The line 'I am not afraid of storms, for I am learning how to sail my ship' is taken from the novel 'Little Women' by Louisa May Alcott.

    #smk_avaap_ch ( Prompt no. 1)

    Hope this makes sense.
    #zeeCollection @writersnetwork
    Bg editing by me.
    Thanks for EC��

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