As a tree leans on its leaves

Waking up

Next to you,

Is the most beautiful

Part of the day.

As I hold

You little palm

With my

Rough with age hands

They hide within them

Just as you hide

Your being in me

When I come back

From cities far away,

Just as you some years back

You were hidden

In the two fair palms

Which cupped

My weary palms

With distinct

cigarette marks on them

On an October day

At the Coffee house

In a sleepy town.

I hold those tiny hands

Of you

Adorned by

A faux watch shaped

Like a butterfly,

That is so like your soul

Ready to scout all the flowers of this world,

And smile-

As a tree

Leans on its leave

For its very existence.

- 24-02-2014 - A Sunday Morning Blessed by you