When the clock strikes twelve
The ebony of night desolves the Cindrella hour
She picks up her magic wand
Transforms her pumpkin carriage into wings of fire
Leaves all the shards of her broken dreams in quagmire.
There shouldn’t be any glass shoe left behind, she ensures
As she needs no Prince Charming to rescue her
She’s meant to brighten the dark, the obscure
Picks up the pair, fits her feet in and glides through the clouds
A drapery of rainbows she enshrouds
In the transparent sky which matches her heart
Her flight towards the zenith then kickstarts.
From spring to autumn and in all weathers
Riding on her fiery gleaming feathers
I see her fly at the crack of each dawn
With a new pair of glass shoes she adorns
She bakes the glass pair into platinum
Each night she sifts the moon’s Argentum.
She drops everyday her worn-out wings
Ecdysis…Ecdysis…her renewed soul sings
Her old wings dribble as she grows all new
Everyday, she writes her stories anew
With the month of Caesar, the Augustus, when a year ages
She quits the old-fangled, a new Maitreni emerges!!
Happy Birthday, my Lioness!
Yours, Mommy!!
— Sangeeta ..
Written on 1st of August for the girl behind the labels … Indian Rapunzel with 5 feet hair and Cindrella, who dons 6 in. Jimmy Choo heels. This poem speaks of the real Maitreni Mishra who sings, writes, reads, paints.. and does everything her mom wished to do. It’s about her who cares and who has a mushy core..
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