Author: Nyasa Kamargaonkar. Class VII A
There was something within
The yellow envelope, in
the dusty attic
of a house chaotic.
Mats were laid, the house was clean,
But under the mats, in a nook never seen,
A yellow envelope was there
With a few memories bare.
It shone peculiarly,
Getting my attention unknowingly.
Peculiar was the yellow envelope,
Peculiar was its writing,
Peculiar was its address,
Peculiar were its stories.
The envelope was big, with memories filled.
A long letter within,
With several stories in.
I read it whole,
My eyes glowed,
for
Beautiful stories were told.
The envelope, faded and old,
held for me
riches untold
riches not to be seen with eyes
but felt by the soul
as lives unfold.
