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shared in Poem by

Woman in Prayer


She leaned by the wayside

As if in trance

Oblivious of the hurrying feet of passers-by

Her head covered with the end of her saree

Was tilted to the right

It rested on the criss-cross of the grill-gate

Her forehead touching the cold hardness

She clasps her hands

Her eyes half-shut

Her lips moving in silent murmur

Of secret prayers

Meant only for the deity

Keeping lifeless vigil

Within the hollow of the darkened shrine

With just the trembling flame

Of a tiny lamp for company.

commented by
nice rhyme....
commented by
awesome piece of writing....good
commented by
Well written.....

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