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Still Life
On that rain seeped wall,
devoid of paint and bright gaze
amid the water sloshed maze
amid the water sloshed maze
She has hung her life,
her moving, brisk life
moving in to "Still life".
The black umbrella hung half torn
along with the deep embroidered purse, forlorn
and the straw hat that she once gleefully worn.
that were once her constant companion.
On all her outings in the sun.
what made her change the recourse?
Mystery, speculations and more.
She has confined herself within four walls.
walls that devoid the sun and shine
breaking plaster and seepage shrine.
To her "Still Life"
where
life is still but still there
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This short poetry is my take, my interpretation of the picture prompt given by Magpie Tales. Do leave your views on the "comment section" below.
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Nice write. I like the rhythm and the rhyme pattern. Nicely done.
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