Poetry | Words

The Story Teller

May 7, 2015

anrosette.com. the story teller

The light filled up the room
The one where the walls are still the same
It looked gleaming every summer noon
and we loved to play our games.

Tired one afternoon, when no one was  there but me,
I sat on the bed and tried to look around and see
The bed, the walls, the window all are still the same
What was missing were his stories,
what was missing were those games.

I closed my eyes and laid there still
with the golden glow all around.
I tried to hear his voice
But there was no one to make a sound

I didn’t realise when I fell asleep
But the dream felt so real.
I saw him with two boys around him,
he pulled them both near

A little girl tried to fit in
but the boys threw her down.
They would just not leave their places,
they had a naughty frown.

He would then lift the girl up,
and place her on his chest.
The riot would come to an end now
but the boys had no rest.

They knew why they had gathered around him
They knew it was story time
and he always told the best ones,
there was suspense in each line.

The story never ended,
as they all fell asleep midway
The boys would sleep beside him
while the girl would rest on his chest.

Every noon the fight would start
about who would sleep to his right.
But the little girl kept quiet
as she knew, to his chest she was tied.

He moved his watch in sunlight
to create a million stars on the wall.
Then they would chase around each reflection,
with tiny hands hitting the walls like dart.

A Strange pain rose in my heart
as I opened my eyes with fear
I didn’t want to face the truth
that the dream was once real.

The gleaming light was still in there,
but my vision blurred with tears.
I could not see the little boys,
neither was the story teller near.

So lucky was that little girl, I thought
Who fell asleep on his chest.
So blessed were those two boys,
around him when they would rest.

I looked around the bed now,
there was no one else but me.
A feather was lying besides my pillow
and that’s all I could see.

I closed my eyes again now,
though they were wet with tears.
I wanted to hear a story some how
with the expressions his voice would bear.

I wanted to catch the stars again,
to chase after them in the room.
I wanted him to be there with us everyday,
like those summer noons.