Field of Tulips

By Kavya Mehta

As I twirl through the field of memories,

The smell of tulips stroke the wall of my lungs.

As I play with the butterflies and the ivories,

My heart and my soul sung.

The memories, flow all at once,

Through my veins, through my blood.

The smell of flower, the taste of forbiddance,

Through all the crimes, every word whispered of love.

I just remember you by my side,

All through it all.

I don't remember the place, nor the song,

But I remember we sang it- together, along.

I was always much of a dreamer,

But you were the one that handed me my dreamworld.

You made me ache with the moon fever,

As between your tulips, I twirled.

Twirled and spun,

Only to realise that you dropped my hand.

As I fell to the earth, over which the moon shone,

Only to find you six feet under the sand.

Even now as I run through the fields,

Hoping to hear the echoes of your sweet melodious voice.

How will I ever ease into the cold, without my heart's needs?

Now I bring the tulips to your grave, hoping to silence the noise.

By Kavya Mehta