Rainy Evenings

In rainy evenings,
It has happened,
A number of times;
Looking outside
The window for you,
I myself have become,
A window-pane:
Raindrops outside,
A fog inside,
A hapless mind
Strolling futile,
Hand in hand,
With a broken heart,
Through the woods of nostalgia,
Along the pathways of memories;
Hoping against hope,
To get you back again,
As you recede behind
The foggy pane,
All what I can do,
Is to scribble,
Your honeyed name
On the teary fog,
Through which I can see,
The gardener untangle
The liana, which days
Before had clung to it,
Like wet clothes,
From which had emanated,
The smokeless
Flames of passion!


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