Strawberry fields

Like the petal in the falling rain,

An old leaf trembling in a tree,

The light, one dusk, in a lonely lane,

As ethereal as a flake of snow could be.

 

Like the pristine beauty of a rose,

The tears sliding on my cheeks,

Elation in an overdose;

Like the truth everybody seeks.

 

Like fleeting memories of a song,

A flicker of thought: your love for me,

All the things that were right and wrong,

Why couldn’t they just be?

 

Why couldn’t you leave your hand in mine?

O’er by the well, in the strawberry fields,

With the candlelight and a bottle of wine,

In the moment if bliss, when our lips were sealed?

 

Now you’re gone, taking with you,

All the bad and beautiful memories;

The strawberry fields with roses blue,

The evening Sun and the shy lilies.

Your lips trembled with a thousand goodbyes,

To the lonely lanes and the bumblebee;

On you went to the blue-locked skies,

But never said goodbye to me.

 

And here, a robe of grief I don,

Watching the crimson blush with downcast eyes,

Despite the hundred rosy heads, I stand alone;

In the glorious strawberry fields.

Pooja L Rao