HER MOTHER






She says, her mother often talks to her
I disbelieved,
She says, every Sunday she visits her
I disbelieved,
She was convinced about her claims,
I still disbelieved,
for I knew her mother had long departed….
how could I believe?

My best friend, I felt bad she was sad,
Wanted to help her, before world called her mad.
So, this Sunday, to observe her, I decided,
From a distance, I watched; I waited…

A cool breeze in the house, suddenly swept,
Along with it, the wind-chimes too, chimed…
A mystic fragrance then filled the air,
Along with it musical choir played, faint...

“Mama! You’re here, I missed you so,”
Stunned, I heard my friend’s monologue,
"Yes, my baby," her mother spoke,
Her claims, since, I never disbelieved.


❤❀❤
This post is for Magpie Tales 242
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7 comments:

  1. lovely write....ghosts and all..xx

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  2. There are two worlds colliding here. Very well crafted!

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  3. oh my I like this a lot!

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  4. A nice (not spooky) tale of ghosts and memories!

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  5. Seeing is believing....great writing Nandini. :-)

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  6. thanks a lot @everyone :-)

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