My Poems

Shooting Star

Grandma often told us tales
While putting us to sleep
Of kings and queens
Of kingdoms and wars
How people after passing
Became twinkling stars.
Little diamonds in their new abode,
Watching upon
The ones they loved.

When these diamonds fell from the sky
She would pull us close, cover our eyes,
And say –
‘Make a wish, my dear! The star is falling away’.

My silly, little heart still believes
One day the dreams will come true
so, every time, I see a shooting star,
I close my eyes, cross my fingers, and wish –

Grandma, is that you?

Image Courtesy: My sister

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