Softly the light of moon
caresses his bricks and whispers
who says you are broken?
the monsoon wind
laden with invisible droplets
soothe his parched body and ask,
who said you are deserted?
The vines and trees wrap themselves
around his shattered body
like a velvet gown,
filling him up with a grandeur
which plaster and paints could never give!
The birds sing all day long,
at night crickets take their turn,
raindrops dance and fairies walk
when they come down to earth,
reminding him all the time,
he is not broken, alone or deserted by the world.

Thursday photo prompt – broken #writephoto

Use the image to create a post on your own blog… poetry, prose, humour… light or dark, whatever you choose, by noon (GMT) Wednesday 14th September and link back to this post with a pingback. Please make sure that the pingback works and if not, copy and…