When She Talks

There’s not much to be said about the way she looks

But when she talks

My God! when she talks

a thousand different worlds come alive in an instant

and then

the fluttering of her eyes

is a heady cocktail

that cute, button nose

scrunching, as she ponders

seems carefully crafted by God’s own hand

and that smile

could banish darkness

even from Erebus, the darkest corner of hell

that soft yet firm voice

which speaks with a melodic lilt

could breathe life into statues of stone

for when she talks

she lives

flittering from topic to topic

opinionated, indecisive, thoughtful or forlorn

It does not matter why she speaks

it matters only that she does.

 

Hey fellows! This piece is inspired by a quote I came across recently – “She talked like a woman who knew more books than people.” I instantly fell in love, of course!

By the way, did anyone notice how both the poems I posted yesterday are titled in alliteration? Or did I manage to sneak that past all of you? We need to up our game, people!

In case you missed them, here’s a direct link –

Lofty Lessons Learnt

Mild Monday Midnight

Please don’t forget to let me know your views on these and today’s poem!

As always,

Thank you for reading.

Love,

Varnika

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