To Bring Hope

for today’s worth

Roses abloom — pic by Shezneen

How you speak of forlorn fondness,
in pale coats of pastel sheen, to the scabs charred,
from amongst the winds so gentle — unposed

dress my heart in desolate stripes of colour
speak to me of isles afar, whence time began
without — consent of heart ‘n soul

sit me down today, by the woods so grey
in the bosom of your sorrow, gently so — I pray
share your pain — I promise, I will, in silence just

lest it flows to the day that comes next,
hold my hand staunch, in the tenderest touch
Hope to come.. someday — near or far!

Viraji Ogodapola © January, 2024

• Dedicated to my dear friend Shez, for the many moments of laughter shared, sporadic outbursts of cheer, and for her graceful endurance always, with hope.
• In response to Wry’s prompt on Hope:

Hope is Hard Work