The Little Girl with the Angelic Smile.
The rain was torrential,
I observed, from my rickshaw,
and shifted to the centre,
so as,
to not get wet.
But a purple sedan passed me by,
and aside the driver was a little angel set,
entrenched in warmth, that angelic smile, which,
drew me to the side, to again get wet.
The car sped ahead, and I,
Urged on my rickshaw man as well,
Till he pulled up beside that sedan
at the next red light,
and I saw, and fell.
Into a pit of shock and surprise,
at seeing the little cherub sobbing,
fell tears like molten drops from her halo above,
fell they that set me throbbing.
The light turned green,
and I lost that scene,
as she was driven away into the mist,
a smile to a sob in a couple of seconds,
was my driver’s sardonic gist.
I didn’t need to scream,
at my rickshaw man,
to pull aside, that purple sedan,
and prayed for the next light to be red.
But when he did,
the light was green,
giving me just a glimpse, of another scene
Of what can truly be said –
That t’was an angel among angelic smiles,
Returned to an angelic face,
her summer of joy after tears in rain,
Returned - her eyes shone again.
For entrusting lovingly to me,
That simple, sylvan, angelic smile,
If but a memory.
And I thought of changes in life,
So ephemeral as the dew,
But then I thought of that
Simple, sylvan, angelic smile,
And my own refreshed, anew.
