Now a woman is a poem...

Now a woman is a poem...

Now a woman is a poem,
and a man a complex web of words,
A woman is a different season every day,
and a man at times a calm sea and sometimes roaring waves.

A woman is a poem,
a beautiful, carved, shapely limb of a tree,
a swaying leaf in the wind,
or a piece of satin scarf drying on the clothes line.

A man is a novel,
a premise to be understood and followed,
A pipe or a cigar or perhaps a hat,
His shadows, his wants and his ambitions.

A woman is a poem,
filled with oh so few words,
simile here, metaphor there,
mostly an irony and a master in euphemism,

A man is a novel,
filled with infinite words,
infinite possibility, limitless dreams,
and grinding failure.

You don't make love to a novel,
You make love to a poem,
You keep it beside you,
perhaps a crumbled paper, hidden in a wallet,
an anthem for someone or someone's slogan
a vow at the wedding or a sombre word at the funeral..

But a novel at times is so much more,
a paper weight, where secrets of crumbled paper are being kept,
You walk with a book to a lonely place,
Novel is a friend, wherever and whenever you want it,

A poem is a shadow, your constant mate
the lingering lines in your head.

If men are from mars, then women are from next door.
Every woman is beautiful and so is every poem that exists in the world.
we need all, we need more and we need more words..
Words are our soul mates,
for every poem is written of words,
and every novel breathes the same words.

Every man exists in a woman,
And a woman exists in a man too.

 

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Thoughts & Review on- Pinto has an idea by Rajeev Saxena

(because) Someone better will come along

Faith ???