My Story - Mag 59

S

miled again, rather

Grimaces in pain

The spotlight never her thing.

Millions of eyes, ears,

mouths and hands

Dissecting the enigma

On the canvas.

If portraits could

Speak their minds

As do in Hogwarts...

My face would

Mesmerise no longer.

The long hours,

Aching limbs,

Stretched endurance

Worth the while.

Few stolen moments ,

A valid excuse,

Bought at heavy price

Of heartache and heart break.

Throw a curve ball

That proclaimed

The furrowed brows,

Pigment stained fingers

Dipping onto the palette

Belonged to the one

My secret love.

The man belonging

with the world but

never with any one.

Magpie Tales

The Moving Reunion

The Ramp rolled down, searching, gliding slow and steady, reaching out to the ones who had almost lost hope. It became the symbol of humanity and survival as it transported beleaguered, traumatised men one by one. The world watched with baited breath, expectantly the release of prisoners from their hot, claustrophobic earthly tomb. The unfortunate having been almost buried alive for over two months. Banners, cameras, microphones, screaming crowds assaulted the miners senses but were pushed to the background. Only the sheer pleasure of being alive, reunited with loved ones, surrounded by well wishers, concern for those left behind remained.

( Inspired by the latest and similar rescue acts across the world )