PRINCESS - a poem by Deepak Menon

PRINCESS
.

Leaning on the window sill
Waiting for her lord she stands,
Grasping the rusted iron grill
With coarse and worn out hands.
.
Now unkempt with streaks of grey
Her once lustrous locks of hair,
Trail in a tail behind her head
Her eyes locked in a fixed stare.
.
Staring at the bend of the dusty road
Willing him to come into sight,
His frail shoulders carrying the load
Manfully in the failing light,
.
Of the tantalisingly descending sun
Slowly vanishing into night's vale,
As though her little frame to shun
At the window leaning weak and frail.
.
A wistful sigh escapes her lips
As a pleasant memory from long ago,
Into her mind gently skips
Of all the joys she chose to forego.
.
When she followed him, so mild and kind
Into the harsh and cruel world outside,
To stand by his side and there to find
Her very own niche in which to hide.
.

Her eyes glisten with a tear unshed
Unblinking, she thinks of her child,
Lost long ago crying for bread
When hard times, her life defiled.
.
Then her face of a sudden is brightened
With a smile of beatific delight,
She stands erect her bearing lightened
As her Lord comes into her sight.
.
All thoughts of her poverty banished
She races down the stairs to greet,
The man who on her, just love lavished
As wearily he trudges up the street.
.
He sees her running, flying towards him
He drops the bag of toys unsold,
As from the streetlight high above him
He is swathed in a halo of gold.
.
His shoulders square out, his head erect
Contentment seeping into his face,
He stretches out his arms towards her
Wrapping her in tender embrace.
.

Some little while later he picks the things
Still holding her, clasped by his side,
The tattered woman and man on golden wings
Their world complete - walk inside........