I was the bush that deftly turned into a rose;

the metal that polished itself into a gem;

the boredom of the mid-noon that
of sunset acquired romantic calm ;

the quiet dove that learned
to sing
like a nightingale;

that became a humming bee
the solace of a deserted place.

The world reaches out to pluck this rose;
to engrave the gem in the necklace of its neck;

to be lost in the pink sheet of sunset;
to hear melodious notes;
to be amused with pleasant hums.

Ah! The world without you!

The transformation was just for you!


3 thoughts on “Sir!

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