Tuesday, January 27, 2026

Poem 338 : Passive Passion

 Passive Passion
                             - T ABRAHAM

(SOURCE: AI GENERATED IMAGE)

A single strand taken in hand,

Each day picking up a band,

When a strand becomes a band,

Many arms and fingers holding,

Strands are holding and folding,

Monochromatic artist created,

Colours in the palette of psyche,

Each making a lock and key,

Colours turned to paint words,

Words becoming a bouquet,

Beauty gently beating about,

Felt little murmurs and shouts,

First tangled into unruly bands,

Day by day it becomes a beauty,

Churned butter becoming soft,

Letters turning words to draft,

The days have gone so far,

Till it resides as a sweet passion,

As the heavy duty still succeeds.

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Poem 338 : Passive Passion

  Passive Passion                              - T ABRAHAM (SOURCE: AI GENERATED IMAGE) A single strand taken in hand, Each day picking up a...