Your name I’ve painted, In henna on my palm; As days and night spent, Your name is a blessed psalm; Your name I’ve tattooed, In ink on my heart too; Time and tide may pass, Your name will forever last. Anita Bacha
How to tell you, What is softer than the skin of a baby, Softer than the feel of snow, Softer than the petals of a rose, How to tell you, Nothing is softer than your hand, Lying under my cheek, When I sleep; How to tell you, What is a hand without warmth, Or warmth without a hand, Or a 🌹without petals, Or petals without a 🌹, Or me without you,or you without me.
Photo credit: Anita Bacha.
This is the third poem entitled ‘How to tell you’ that I have penned down. I thought my readers would be confused to read (3) in the title. Enjoy! The picture was shot by me at the wedding of my friend, the groom,in Rajasthan. His hand decorated with henna in the picture. I am using the picture to illustrate my poem. There is no connection between the poem and the picture.