Henna, S Words Poem by Nalini Jyotsana Chaturvedi

H

She decorates
my feet and palms
With wet floral designs
From arm to the wrist
in front and behind

Dark wet motifs
That come to life
I love the fragrance
So many memories
It hides

Soon the motifs dry up
falling off as scales
Bright orange colour
Emerges from its veil

Then this orange colour
Darkens up much more
Maroonish brown colour
Adorns, the palms and soles

But in my case
The colour of my henna
Never takes this course
It remains a Dull orange
From where it gets washed off

I should have paid attention
Looked for Henna, s traits
Never would I have
Loved you
Never made this mistake