Unfulfilled Poem by Kumar Parashar

Knock knock! Who is it? 'Sheen Thompson' she said.
'I am a tourist from far away land, Hampstead'
Her pink and dry lips were longing of water and
Her curly hair so delightfully covering her head.

A little sleepy, my eyes still struggling with the morning light
Did not notice her till she came in and the room lit bright
Her eloquent white dress, cream shoes, brown bag on shoulders,
Shiny face of a child, a little fearful but her head held high

Her deep blue eyes which could mesmerize heaven's soul
They had seen the world with million stories untold
Unfulfilled dreams within them, unsatisfied thoughts
Yet so articulate, so elude and certainly so bold

Thin lips, small nose and delicate jaw line
Smell of jasmine and coconuts like divine
Small wood jewelry, small, subtle but elegant
White like snow, her face was and a mysterious shine

I poured in some water and the sound she heard
Her face glowed like a shiny day and a chirping bird
With each swallow, she became more and more live
Like her soul was smiling, pure and unaltered.

We talked for hours and she told stories of her travels
Yet her beautiful feet untouched, unmarked by gravels
The stories told displayed her unaccomplished of something
Something she explored, like a repenting sinner searches for bible.

In the world full of greed and gluttony, none in her eyes
She was not looking for gold which was not her prize
She had renounced the luxuries and voracity of life
There was no trickery, no deception and no lies

We had our meal and shared our tales and some smiles
She laughed like a child, talked like adult, heard so agile
Stood up to go, I asked her to stay more, 'Love to'
She said 'But no, I have to walk several miles'

Thanked me, smiled, turned and she went her way
The time spent was so little and ahead was the longest day
My face with a smile still on its face, wondering about tales
The voice which was sweet and nice, her walk, like ballet.

Sun was to set on the day of happiness and darkness upon us
I went back to bed, lied down, but still felt me blush
How keen, smooth and neat she conversed
Like her words stealing a picture from a painter's brush

Ten years have gone by, yet my mind refuses to forget
I could not love anyone, high bars she had set
Every other woman stood compared for me, and I thought
'Fate did not want us to end, that meet was a preset.'

My bags were packed and tickets in my sack
My carriage waiting at gate, I cannot look back
Forward I go, to Hampstead I go, to far away go
Excited and impatient I sit in my hatchback

Green fields, beautiful sunshine, I am here
Finally I have reached to reach for my dear
Happiness bubbles inside and I jump to walk
With neat roads and pathways, sky blue and clear

'Do you know Sheen Thompson', I've asked several men
'No' they all say, disappointed but I will find her, amen.
I ask and request, begged for mercy to almighty up ahead
'Someone, anyone, please her address, can you pen? '

At last the light shone, and a lady gave me the address
'Go straight to the red cottage, a hundred meters or less'
My feet would not walk; they run with the wind blowing on my face
My sack is dropped, my hands won't pick, my mind, too stressed

Red cottage! Here I am. Sheen! Here I am, panting but live
No hours, No minutes, No second without her, could I survive
Knock! Knock! 'Who is it? ', 'Parashar' I mumbled
Breathing heavy but surrounded by positive vibe

A clink, a clank and an old chap opens the door
Surprised and shocked, no one had visited before
My eyes probe the inside of the house for her
My lips murmuring the name of my love, my amour

'Sheen Thompson? '. 'Pardon please, what did you say? '
'Sheen Thompson', I repeated 'Is she here today? '
His eyes grew wide and feet shaking heavily and face grew pale
Could not believe what he heard, looked at me in a strange way.

Impatient and annoyed, I raise my panting, mumbling voice
'Did you hear me Sir? I think you did, I cannot hear any other noise'
Speechless and stunned, he stood like a marble statue deaf and dumb
'Ah! ' I was irked. I held his shoulders and shook him twice.

'I ask again. Sheen Thompson. Did you hear what I said? '
His knees grew weak and low hung his flabbergasted head
He dropped down, tears came out, mumbled, I could only make this much
'I am sorry Sir! It has been forty five years since she is dead! '