Dear Theo, the artist in me longs
To render prussian midnight, bright
Stars scintillating in Arles skies
In silence molten skies reply.
Suffice this much: my paints tonight.
The fields that sing, ah, this twilight!
I’ll trudge through this dark chilly nox
And suffer no more demons spite
Walk towards distant music that
In my veins throbs, Rhonê’s wheat fields ripe!
A work of art I shall create
Vincent, dream, artistry’s your fate!
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Batool Idrish Siamwala, pens under her maiden name, Mumtaz N Khorakiwala. She has served as an Asst. Prof. in English Language & Literature in St. Joseph’s College, Visakhapatnam, for nearly a decade. She went back to Creative Writing; she writes on online forums like Poets Inc and Artoons Inn Poetry Parlour and is a blogger on Momspresso.
Latest posts by Mumtaz N Khorakiwala (see all)
- The Awakening - 15 May 2023
- To do Nothing - 19 Apr 2023
- Rise With the Lark - 22 Jan 2023