The Prince

By Samiksha Deshpande

He stood by the river, in pale moonlight;

Gazing ahead, into the woods, shadowed by the night.

Unaware, of everything, everything but the rose;

That grew silently, each petal striking an elegant pose.

Was it a puzzle? Was it a clue? Or was it, finally, a dream coming true?

So rich in red, what could it mean?

Unanswered till….

The moon revealed his queen.

By Samiksha Deshpande