I would walk every morning to that big and beautiful park.
Fenced by an unscalable wall of concrete and taller eucalyptus.
Inside was lush green, and overlooked a beautiful lake placid.
It was tinged glittering gold, with the morning sun smiling on it.
I would walk silently on the pathway, as the joggers pass by.
There were people both old and young, breathing freshness.
It was like an island surrounded by the ocean of urban concrete.
I would trace the same path to that desolate shaded bench of teak.
The bench was near that lake, looking onto the swans’ fleet.
But onto its side, there was a solitary bench idled by lassitude.
There sat a fair and beautiful angel, lonely, lost in her thoughts.
She would look at the lake for long in melancholy and solitude.
Every day, I would sit, trying to peep into her world of thoughts.
What would make such a beauty, so lonely and so uncherished?
Did she lose her love? Or he deserted her leaving her in torment?
Her world seemed like the sea-like lake, with no boat and no end.
I would wish to see her world through her pensive pretty eyes.
May be she waits, endlessly; for him to come back, however.
I would wish to tread back to her path where she was left all alone.
And would walk by her side forever and sit on her bench together.
Every day, I fell in love with the lonely angel, a bit more than yester.
I would try to walk up to her, but shied away for the voice from above.
I begged for the courage, but feared her going away from that bench.
She made my day filled with amour and care; she was my silent first love.
© Manish Ranjan, 2016