Belated

Through the distant stars
I recall the nights
that had our names,
as two oval halves of a sandclock.
Complimenting each other
quietly we would mix.

My love for you is like
the coloured windchime.
Tune is its forte, still
on a rainy day you prefer sparkles.

Remember? You gifted me a magnet.
Poles reconciled.
Opposites attract.
We were quite the same, still.
Physics is so merely physics, at times.

A quota in my life is for me, little.
Rest is yours.
A quota in my poetry is you, a lot.
Rest is a mundane stanza.

A note I had had for you.
Delivered but escaping a thousand
waves of your white saree.

Still living with the scent,
I have changed a line or two,

"All the roses in this world were white.
Until love came and dipped them in red."

SoUmY@