Garden Musings of a Romantic

By Harmehma Kaur Bagga

The tender chimes of the wind sifting through the feeble  leaves remind me of your tender caress, 

Adoring you from afar is such a murderous chore I must  indeed confess. 

Hitherto, I felt I could fly, presumed I could touch the  empyrean sky, 

Still your mild but seasoned aphorisms got to my wretched  heart - oh my! 

The empathising trees, the wispy grass, the inebriating  chirping of the Seven Sisters  

The clementine cooing of the morning birds, the rays of  the sun caressing my subdued skin - all remind me of the  resister 

Of love and all the fortuitousness it brings  

Retort to me, worshipped - could we wallow in but a  harmless fling?

By Harmehma Kaur Bagga