Monday, August 1, 2016

Having coffee with her

We were sitting by the window glass
Overlooking the street
A bit blurry after a spell of rain,
We sat there having no real hurry,
The hall had the quietitude too,
Just that we wanted to savour,
She was slowing turning her spoon
Into the cup of coffee steaming ,

And we talked about many things,
Usually it started with queries made
And answers to them, relayed, 'How was the day? '
She asked me,
Perfectly windowside as we sat
Through the glass the town looked blurry,

And mind you, we had no hurry,
Whatsoever,
She poured sugar cubes one by one,
Into coffee cups of her and mine, 'So far, so good' I replied,
Rain was stopping there, outside,

The hall was quiet

For us to talk , 'How's yours?'
I asked,
Customarily,

She took a sip,
I could see her face,
She was taking the aroma of beans ,

Coffee ,

It triggered more of our memories,

She talked of having black forest
Somewhere faraway from the town,
Sitting on the rooftop
Watching the birds flying
Across an autumnal sky,

I talked of my take
Of caffeine , java,
I recalled, 'Was I there with you too?'
She asked, 'Surely'
I replied, 'I had been there at that rooftop too,
When you munched that sandwich
And watched those hills
And those birds spreading wings
Carried away by the autumnal breeze'

I added,
Knowing she could always carry me,
Like I do,
Everywhere,

Outside the rain had receded,
The glass having those little rivulets drawn upon it,
Was beginning to get clear,

The vision blurry was getting cleaned,
I could see her, biting her lower lip,

I thought her face looked tantalizing,

Redness of her lips
Kept my eyes upon her
Transfixed,

We were never in a hurry,

I held the cup, steaming
She was sipping slowly hers.

No comments:

Post a Comment

The State Funeral

At least they have given her The State Funeral With tongue cut,  She could not have spoken for  The rare award,  The police have done the th...