My beautiful sharp edges


With warm love,

But I taste sweeter on sticky fingers

In summer

Like chocolate.

In spring my daughters will visit me

They will hold balls every dawn

Filling the air

With butterfly beckoning Fragrances

They will leave sweet gifts of farewell.

That is the story of how you and I became friends.


Even though I look majestic now

Covered in rime

I count months in moments

Till summer

Which brings to me memories of you

As a child

Sitting in my shade

Telling me her stories of love

For the multi-coloured caterpillar

In the new flower patch.

The black-orange spider whose web you tried decorating

With small flowered Ixora.

The Araneae, she cut threads from her silk web

To clear her trapping canvas off your sweet labour

Which, she preferred plain, speckled and glimmering with dew


Many years have passed

I have strong dark rings to show for each one I spend

Waiting for you to return

To feel your fingers caressing my old bark

Where you, in those lost years would have exclaimed

With joyful wonder

Every time you found pastel tinted eggs

You believed butterflies laid


In some of the moments I remember you,

I wish I wasn’t an existence immobile and mute

To tell you that

Every time you felt waves of euphoric love in your heart

For me,

They reached me in the wind.

I caught them

And made wishes for you.


Wherever you are,

I hope they all come true.

Till then, I’ll continue holding the sky up

Remembering your songs

Dreaming of you.




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