English weather !

That evening
When the narrow street of the town were quiet like sleeping dogs
I saw
Snow falling in threads, making a soft white sheet on the window of my room.
And with that, I was trying to put first line in order
Few drawings
Some blank spaces
And
An unending dots and digits.
I would write it and cross it out to write it again
Like a lunatic.

I saw, right here on the window of my dark room,
The spirit of a shy girl
Reading
On her rocking chair the story of love and longing.

It was getting dark around her too
I thought a bit
And then left my belongings on my dreamy bed
To read with utmost observation
Her hennaed hands
Her red shawl
And
Her warm winter clothes.
Her lips
Red as rose petals
Her cheek
Sweet as date and pastry.

As I wanted to draw one more picture of her
The rain started falling down in threads
Removing everything
that I sketched in snow.
The girl stood like a weather forecaster
Laughed one last time
And disappeared
Like a ghost, saying
“This is English weather young man; tomorrow will be a bright sunny day”

Farid Gul , London, December 4, 2010