Thursday 15 August 2019

Poetry 2019 Longlist, Anila Mathew


Rose is the hue that fills the eye,

Promises recovered from recesses of time,

Some broken or forgotten, some that bade goodbye

All awash in the glory of the past,

Sepia tinged pictures of joy

Wishes and aspirations were mostly recast

Silky bonds of camaraderie

Some that survived, some that were lost

To all the vows went contrary

Time the so-called healer

Stole more than one kept count

Quite a stingy dealer

Even bitterness and pain

Is relished as the struggles

Evaporate in the chaotic brain

Piercing sadness crawls in,

As reality beckons into a cold grip,

Memories flushed into the recycle bin

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