Every Sunday she wore the antique brooch gracing her woven braid with the hope that one day he would magically arrive from his graveyard and tease her like he used to do before.
Copyright © Shantanu Baruah
Every Sunday she wore the antique brooch gracing her woven braid with the hope that one day he would magically arrive from his graveyard and tease her like he used to do before.
Copyright © Shantanu Baruah
I can imagine the scene. You hav magic in ur words.. its Many such moments where heart doesn’t want to listen to the mind. Wonderful
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Thank you so much. Appreciate ur comment
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Reblogged this on Ckonfab.
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I loved this! Reminds me of my Mom still sensing my Dad and talking to him in her head! Love poems on dreams, memories and love that shall return in the Great Beyond!! Super post, Shantanu!!!
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Thanks so much. I am glad you could relate. Much humbled
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Reblogged this on The Reluctant Poet.
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Thanks so much for the reblog
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Happy too!
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😊🌸
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