Once like Lang Leav...

Like Lang Leav
A leaf
Her words
To me
Made a connect
As if
Her blue inked fingers
Stained with pains
Wrote her all,
Her lives
Small running times
me found them all,
Like Lang Leav
A leaf
From her book
To me made a fall
And me saw it all
How she had traversed
From narrow to the vast,
From pink to red to silver
How she got fruits on salver
As if apples
Like Lang Leav
me fell to her words
The blue ink
Stories of her own
And reading
Be came
Like Lang Leav
Her in her
me thought to see...
Forgiving 'the pens that marked her'...

(Note:- on a poem by Lang Leav...and here I must add a friend mine, listed that poem for which I am kind of indebted to her, for she linked me with the essence of Lang Leav.)


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