D’you remember the bright blue flowers
Of morning glory that had crept up
The old, brick wall we used to climb?
Remember how the tender blooms clung
To the peeling layers of whitewash lime
And crumbling brick and fallen mortar?
How we loved their sublime smiles
On sunny mornings, when the world spun slow!
So tender were they that the mid-morning sun
And the warm, playful, summer breeze
Were enough to wound their blue-veined skin.
We watched them die their silent death.
The sun moved up, and drained us out
Bored and tired, waiting for lunch
We idly plucked out the wilting blooms.
Soon they were balloons that we burst
On each other’s foreheads, yelling with glee.
They were lovely, yet we were kids…
Decades too late in this city of sand
Staring out of my two-roomed flat,
Beyond the glass and chrome I see
An arched gateway where lizards spy,
A rotting gate with rusted hinges,
And fragile dreams of purple glory.