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Shreya Singh

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Member Since: Feb, 2007

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Market Street, San Francisco
by Shreya Singh

Saturday, February 10, 2007
Rated "G" by the Author.
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Recent poems by Shreya Singh
•  Armor
•  It's what you do to me
•  The Waterfront
•  Atonement
•  Illusion
           >> View all 23

On a cold overcast winter morning on my way to the city yesterday..I saw the most beautiful blue eyes which sought me amongst the crowds to write this down.

Saw an old man

with wrinkles around the bluest blue eyes

Staring in to emptiness

with a solitary flute lying aside

He was sitting on a worn blanket

with frayed edges maybe fingerprinting his own life

I got down on my knees & asked him if he was cold

breaking his reverie he looked at me

And i noticed that those eyes had specks of gold

His kind eyes smiled up to me

and asked me if I wanted to hear a song....

I heard the quiver in his voice as he spoke

he picked up his flute and suddenly the sun broke

The bluest blue eyes reflected the skies

his music breaking the pace of many quick strides

People stopped to listen to the sad american native song

imagination intertwined like a vivid folklore

White hair, soft spirit, creased skin, bluest blue eyes

i hope to see you tomorrow to watch your eyes come to life....

©Author, Shreya Singh 

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Reviewed by Art Sun 2/11/2007
Your thoughts reflect the natural age of wisdom through the eyes of one who plays the songs of native music...a nice portrait of reality through poetry...

nice work.....Art Sun...
Reviewed by Gwendolyn Thomas Gath 2/11/2007


Your poem was breathtaking and heartfelt.
Hope you do get to see the bluest blue eyes tomorrow.

Have a wonderful time here at the den,
Author, Gwendolyn A. Thomas
From the Heart of an Artist Quiet Storm
Reviewed by Sandi Schraut 2/10/2007
You have painted a pretty picture with your words Shreya! keep up the good work! Sandi

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