Bathing alone in
A candle lit dream
Upon the glass
Etched in steam
The lady elegant
As a queen
Silent mist twirls
Around her silhouette
Upon a window pane
Shadows wet
Stars above swirl as
She stares at me
As if to say
Draw me quick
Before I fade away
To other dimensions
To another plane
Where all is nonsense
And no one is sane
Lingering as long
As it takes to capture
Her memory before
She makes her departure
Water whirling
Down the drain
Questions fly with her
What and why?
While I remain
Wondering
Who am I?
Before viewing the latest postings;I scanned through the titles of the various poems and alighting on “Steam Queen” I thought ah,a poem about railway locomotives! Its one of the unsought for rewards of reading poetry that titles can of themselves raise preconceptions and expectations.Without doubt an existential discourse utilising bathing as metaphor and allegory,was dare I utter it?yes,”refreshing”.
Simply beautiful.
Thank You Rahul!