Posted in poems

The girl on the cycle and secret admirer

Longing for the sight of my love as I looked around for her among the crowd;

She cycles her way every Sunday to the church as she stops near the flower seller   at the railway station;

Waiting for hours, I was sweating and wore a disappointed look on my face,

She is not coming today,’ I cursed my fate.

We are strangers yet the way she zooms past me on her cycle brings a dash of hope and happiness to my life;

I love the way she rides the cycle, dressed in short and white shirt;

She looks cute when she waves to the flower seller and rides her cycle;

I jumped with joy when I saw her riding past me and my heart goes cuckoo;

I waited for the moment and her presence brings a smile to my face;

I sing happily on my way as I follow her to the church to catch a glimpse of her;

Little does she know about her silent admirer;





Work-in-progress, seeker and bundle of contradictions. Stubborn and Refusal to grow up and constantly in search of myself, I blurt it out on my space. Drop in and share some love. Indian by choice.

10 thoughts on “The girl on the cycle and secret admirer

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