Romance Today

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    Romance Today

    He was alone at the bus-stop,
    talking on his mobile phone
    in hushed tones.
    Smiling and animated,
    he gestured into the air.

    A sudden impatience in his voice,
    he pouted sullenly.
    His eyes widened
    as he listened intently,
    amidst the dissonant noises of the street.

    He smiled again, as he jumped up
    to stop the bus.
    He blew a kiss into the phone,
    snapped it shut
    and cheerfully boarded the bus.

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    A poem begins as a lump in the throat, a sense of wrong, a homesickness, a lovesickness. It finds the thought and the thought finds the words.

    Robert Frost (1875-1963) American Poet.

    Sasi’s Poems (6)

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    The Monsoon 0
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    Romance Today 0
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