Only ashes of fond memories remain

~ Ode to Shyama

My heart aches, to see you no more,
A smiling face to beckon me hither,
Ripples of laughter that echo in my ears
now, no more,
as I walk in, waiting,
for that spirit to infuse the thrill of silent beauty
those magic hands, those soft fingers, they touch no more.

It is a mystery, why human buds as you should fall,
when the blossom of youth hath not withered,
but those petals that blow, soaked in the dew of tears
whisper your kindness, life and grace
a life, a light, so suddenly blown away
and all that remains are ashes of fond memories
Oh! Sculptor of beauty you are no more.

By Ayoma Wijesundere