A memory of days gone by

The kite, ensnared and motionless,Caught in the jacaranda tree’s grip,Amidst the spring’s vibrant blossom,Frozen in this moment, time’s slip. Beneath, a non-functioning fountain,A rusted testament to days gone by,Its silence speaks of memories once certain,Now lost to the ebb and flow of time’s tide. Here, a stillness lingers in the air,As the kite and tree

PAST

First of all, I would like to say sorry to those of you who were waiting for the next part of The Captive of True Love. I am still working it. Anyway, yesterday, Anshika sent me her new poem and I wrote something in response and accidentally we did a new collaboration, here it is.