Mrs. Thoughts
Mrs. Thought was meddling with memories
Remembering and guessing those old bed time stories
She picked the embroidered cloth of old days
Stitched in which were some pictures of past and people lost in maze
The tick tock sound in the front wall recalled the forbidden plays
The moving hand sounded more profound in silence at slave
The clay kettle of tea was empty of its emotion
The saucer and cups yet had to be filled
with the causes and reasons for our notion
Her dinning table with the shapes of the worn out flower
Addressed the audiences in the chairs with words no louder
But Mrs. Thoughts likes everything at null
Her world brighter outside and the core at dull
With corners without edges
Some people with ages
All she wishes for is a pen and few pages
Metaphorically to describe her memories is easier for her
Blushing and gushing at the dawn in blur
Mrs. Thoughts gets older with every day by gone
But she never sits at silence , lost in someone’s arm.