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Between hours of early morn and grey twilight,
roam, corners of the earth with lightest breath.
I glanced down at ink-stained hands, lingering 
fragrance of hot pink tulips. 

His murmurs interrupt curtain of gloomy haze;
while he offers me, quick words of benevolence. 
I wonder what secrets, he held inside his heart;
as fuchsia moon appears, biding time to depart.

I looked up to the sky fresh tears welled into my 
reluctant eye, oh perhaps some things are better
left unquestioned, I ponder as I pen fresh words
down on page. 



Photo credits: Pixabay

Posted on Midweek Motif @ Poets United 

and on Monday Writes @ My Blog – Verses


32 thoughts on “Benevolence

  1. Susan says:

    Thank you for breaking through the clouds with lingering Hot Pink and Fuchsia! You are right, it is probably best not to question it–but how tempting to want to hold onto the delightful interruptions. Sigh. This feels like it’s for me.

  2. Old Egg says:

    What an intriguing picture you painted with this poem Sanaa as I imagined a poetess refining her work in the early hours as her man wakes to see her still scribbling away and just mumbles as he falls asleep again as she continues to refine her work. Delightful!

  3. panchali says:

    Oh, I love the ‘fuschia moon’… its sheer magic when the elements of words, colors blend with the composition! Gorgeous piece, Sanaa!

  4. Magical Mystical Teacher says:

    Will those secrets ever be known? Maybe, maybe not. But wondering at secrets is the stuff of poetry, is it not? And you’ve wondered well!

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