Sunday, December 25, 2011

Purple Night Dress

It shimmers in the faint light that seeps in from beneath the closed doors.
Its touch is like flowers, like clouds, like breath, and it clings and slips
and makes you feel quite queen-like.

You comb your hair a hundred times and you brush your teeth.
You wash your face with the posh, age-defying face wash
and you step out of your soft fur slippers.

In a smooth, royal movement, your stately frame
struts towards your queen-sized bed
with its shiny sheets, covers and pillowcases.

You lift the covers and crawl deep into their velvetty recesses
and, then, all dressed up in your purple night dress
with pink polka dots
you turn on to your side towards
a blank white wall.



4 comments:

drtaher said...

Dear Vibha,

Nice thoughts ... although I was disappointed by the climb-down in the last line. I was anticipating something more romantic. My bad, I suppose. And yet, the thoughts seemed to be elevating the poet to a higher, more sublime state of existence. Why the antithesis?

Vibha said...

It wouldn't have been fun and honest without the last line.

Thanks for reading Dr. Taher. Your comments mean a lot to me...

Chhaya said...

but before turning to the wall...make sure to start the movie download :P

Vibha said...

:) True Chhaya...Very True!

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