The view from our living room window
You and I,
We once lived in a lovely cottage.
Our tiny living room window,
overlooked the thick pine forest.
How we both loved to stand by it,
while sipping our evening tea,
glad and at peace in each other’s company.
You loved to narrate the day’s happenings,
I loved to listen to your excited prattling.
You also used to write a lot then,
they were make - believe folklores,
written to amuse me, while I did my evening chores.
You made me laugh,
with the silly stories you had written.
Not one of them made sense,
yet I listened to them again and again.
Then there came a time,
when your writings grew scanty,
and our lovely cottage took the shape of a shanty.
Even the Nature around us looked bleak, just like you,
I noticed the change but remained aloof.
It will pass when the spring approaches,
so I continued making tea on time,
waiting for the spring to bring some sunshine,
and hoping it would get you back beside
the tiny living room window and me.
But the spring never came;
the winters were full of blames.
I was bewildered,
did not understand how it was my fault.
The view from the tiny window was the still the same,
The pine forest still held its ground,
of course the trees - they were slowly turning brown!