One morning I walked into a room to find my daughter weeping holding on to my dad’s jacket. She had a dream of her grandpa who was her favorite person in the world, a few months after he had passed away.

My eyes chanced upon a girl

Her heart, beautiful like a pearl

Her face, enveloped in gloom

She was standing in that room

With unfurled hair

And her feet, bare

Eyes, soaking wet

Hands clinging to a jacket

Hugging her, I asked

“Why are you weeping?”

She said, “I dreamt of my grandpa

He would sit on the sofa

And tell me a folklore

Applauding my music galore

But he is no more

To shout for an encore!”


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

Website Powered by WordPress.com.

Up ↑

%d bloggers like this: