Diya Alwani

  Why do you cherish the dead ones so much? He asked! They live forever in between my books… I replied adding… Fresh rose, Cherished for it's beauty; Dead rose, Is beyond the beauty. Fresh rose, Smells so sweet; Dead rose, Smells of  memories. Fresh rose, Gives the feel of softness; Dead rose, Gives the feel of the past. Fresh one, Bloom for days; Dead one, It forever stays. Fresh one, Remains with the rest; But a dead one, Is like a secret close to the chest. To which he added, Fresh rose, Has petals so smooth, And with a gentle touch They soothe. Dead rose, Crinkled and dry But holds the whispers Of that last goodbye. And then left….

The rose in my pretty garden, seems to be smiling and being nurtured with all the positivity around it. I didn't knew that it may grab my heart someday, in that dark night, under the moonlighting and those scattered stars. That perfect glaze of the white light on those red petals seems to attract every eye around my garden. Oh dear! it catches me through its scent and through its adorable beauty. The bud in its core seems to hug the petals with all its heart and all its love, as though it will retain the bond forever and ever. My darling flower, catches my heart with that peaceful liberty of its terminating petal. Look at it, so free and away from the tyranny. My dear, I heard it's voice, so pleasing, so soothing. Telling me to come closure and give it a refreshing touch. That firefly giving it a glow, the glow to reflect love and be full of sentience. The rose seems to blush as it knows, it is the only beautiful lady of my little garden and is standing still at its place, show