THE HOUSE

 

In a starry city far away,

A house there will be.

A roof touching the moon.

For just you and me.

 

We’d live beautifully.

We’d laugh carefree.

 

With soft-golden walls,

And feather-light windows.

With a sandalwood-dripping balcony,

And silver-knobbed flowery doors.

 

Outside there’d be an orchard.

A banyan in the middle.

On it a tree house there’d be.

We’d climb its roots.

We’d walk barefoot.

 

With every windy grace,

The house shall move.

Safe in each other’s embrace,

We’d race to the roof.

To who first would touch the moon.

 

In a starry city far away.

A house there shall be.

We’d live beautifully.

We’d laugh carefree.

Just you and me.

-Manya Singh Patel