Will You Be My Wife? : A poem by Vandana Saxena

“I love her the most, and so she does, I think”
He said to his friend, caressing the diamond ring
Lost in his thoughts, donning a smile
With roses for her, he drove an extra mile
It was the day to bid a final adieu
To distant desires; and for wishes to come true
He reached the café with a bunch of rosettes
Waiting to kneel, he turned on the faucets
To shower his love, for all his life
Ready to ask, “Will you be my wife?”
There she was, across the road
Under the sun, her flesh glowed
She rushed to him, to fall in his arms
Ignoring the signals and traffic alarm
Before his eyes, she fell apart
He stood still; with a ring, roses, and a broken heart.
He visited her grave every day, it was destiny’s art
With a ring, roses, and a question… for life

“Hey! I am dying to know, Will you be my wife?”