The Veil of Fragrance

There lies an old secret in flowers so still,

No face to be seen, yet hearts they thrill.

The bouquet she held with fingers so mild,

Spoke poems of silence, tender and wild.

In a sunlit town, where dreams softly bloom,

A scarf danced gently, dispelling the gloom.

Those daisies, that dry grass, that whisper of fall,

Said everything — though she said nothing at all.

No eyes, no smile, just a lingering scent,

As if her prayers with the wind were sent.

A moment stood still, then time moved again,

Her presence remained, like a sweet gentle rain.

This isn’t a picture — it’s poetry in pause,

Where silence breathes, and beauty draws.

Don’t ask where her features have gone to stay,

This image lives on — in hearts, far away.

— Sahil Leewanay