Followers

Friday 18 October 2024

2903 It was an old (English poetry)

 The memory of a meeting that was sweet and dear,

It was an old night, full of love and cheer.


The one who parted, the one who brought near,

Not of today, but a time once dear.


The promise you made, forgotten in haste,

The gift meant for me, was of an ancient taste.


The outcome we see from the bond we've made,

Its start was old, long before it displayed.


Though victory is ours today, in fate’s grand art,

'Geet', the game we played was an old master’s part.

3.12pm 18 Oct 2024

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