Her usual fiery self
A command here
A reprimand there
I knew she meant well
But was rough, alright
Her words carved in stone
For everyone in sight
Living next door to us
Alone, most of the day
Made her seek my help
In more than one way
She called at odd hours
For the smallest things
Flipping channels on her tv
Or placing calls till it rings
It bothered me sometimes
And even made me cranky
Did I really have to do it
She was just another Aunty
Then one day, by mistake
She locked herself out of home
Terrified, she banged at my door
Blabbering, if I could come
Her expression was alarming
And I joined her at once
She had summoned someone
But was in a kind of trance
Her eyes had welled up
She hadnβt eaten till then
My offers to wait in our home
Were waived off and forgotten
Someone came with the keys
She heaved a sigh of relief
She took a sip of water, finally
But her anxiety still left a whiff
Thanking me profusely
She entered her home again
And I was left wondering
Being patient with people, isnβt at all vain
That was very nicely put in a narrative poem π You have said it well in the last line! Like that! π
Thanks Prakash. ????
I first thought of doing a post, but then decided to explore the narrative style. You’re the expert. I hope I did justice to it.
This has worked out well.. π
I am a learner too.. π
Thank you! Learner, may be, but lot better than me. My poems have their own rules. ????
Ahh, may be not, may be.
Now its the own rules that brings out good.. π You are right on track.. π
Wow, that’s nice. Thank you so much, Prakash.
Very nice and such a great poem
Thanks Kamal, for reading and commenting.
Welcome Varsh
Yeah..just be with the needy…moral support and patience can make them relaxed
Exactly. A little empathy goes a long way.
Good evening, Akhi. βΊ
Absolutely! A beautiful story so well expressed Varsha!
Thanks Perfy! I had wanted to write about it since a long time but only did so now. Glad you liked it. ????????