If our eyes were loud, mine will scream like the train's whistle, on the rail reminiscing back to the first day I saw you, beauty paint decorated all curves of your face, I sat on the curl of your smile, there became my favourite spot, in the arms of that sparkle I fell and so my saddest moment was when I made you sad.

She inspired many poems from my pen broken, I learnt to use a half of my broken heart to spread the ink on those lines, how I wish they were perfect as your beauty is. Yes, from the first day, we stood closer, distant from ourselves among friends, I wanted to get your attention. If I had a magical pencil, won't I draw one?

You spoke softly, reminding me that I haven't seen an angel, so this one is fashioned in human form. You asked what I was writing? It was what I do best and when you asked if I could write a poem for you? No can never be the answer, I'll gladly go into that mystic space and realms, to arouse the past that craved to be future.

We went on to be on free ends, the first day you hugged me, is still a stud, dent in my mind, shy me. I mean, I sang of you to the ears of my friends and whether they are deaf, the rhythm of my Adam apple bass your name. Don't know why? Wanted to find a start in your bubblicious soft lips, it was an end of a start of a path different.

That's a tale of me and you, sorry for reminding you. But today marks a date, and I have to put it to you that you also mark a place. Flow to the stream you wish to move, shine up brighter with the moon and stars. The day is yours, do I have to give you a Sceptre? From afar, I celebrate you.

© Nyeri ✍️...