Picture Courtesy: © Diba Raza
The low hung trees
and the pretty flowers on the path,
Remind me of the wondrous roads to Heaven
When I'd sit on the porch, tired,
Dissolve in the essence of tea,
and relive a story.
A story of a prince who'd,
someday walk on the same path.
and take me with him.
These distinct flowers
seem familiar when I close my eyes.
and remember the good old days.
When mom would sweep the dried petals,
and I'd wait again until,
the low hung trees.....
and the pretty flowers
made another path,
to the home, where I lived until....
He came and took me to his Kingdom
They have trees too, low hung..
But the flowers aren't so pretty!