Mrs. Thoughts

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.