EVERY SUNDAY MORNING,
I STAND BY TO WATCH THE CURTAINS BEEN DRAWN, THE WINDOWS TO BE OPEN
I WAIT TO EMBRACE THE INVIGORATING BREEZE AGAINST MY FACE
LOOKING DOWN FROM MY APARTMENT,
EVERYTHING FEELS TINY
I SEE THE TRANQUIL SKIES, THE TINY HOUSES, THE CONTRAST OF LIFE
I HEAR MY DAD SING ALONG HIS FAVOURITE, IT'S EXHILERATING
I WONDER WHAT HAPPENS UNDER THE SHADE OF THE TINY ROOFS
I STAND BY THE OPEN WINDOWS, CONFLICT FREE
THE SCENARY FILLS ME WITH WARMTH AND COMFORT
AND I LOOK BACK TOWARD MY FAMILY, IT IS QUIETUDE
WE SHARE INTENSE GLARES, TONGUELESS CONVERSATIONS, SOME UNEXPRESSED EMOTIONS,
THOSE EYES SAY STUFF INTENSE THAN THE VIEW OF A SMARTPHONE SCREEN
I LOOK BACK THROUGH THE WINDOW, INTO MY MAGIC WORLD
I SEE A FAMILY, SITTING ON A COT IN THEIR YARD, THE KIDS ARE PLAYING AND THE ELDERS ARE HAVING A CONVERSATION, A FUN ONE
I LOOK AT THE PIGEONS, THE CRAZE IN THEIR COOING, IT MAKES ME LAUGH
THE PRETENTIOUS COMPULSATIONS OF A LIFESTYLE ARE NOT MY WANT
THE PERFECT SUNDAY MORNING, THROUGH THE WINDOW IS MY ENCHANT!
~Ae(sha)
YOU ARE READING
Weekdays or Weakdays?
PoetryThis series of poems will let you relate to the emotions we feel whilst going through every day of the week , from relaxing Sundays to annoying Mondays :)
