Published March 17, 2015 by Shreya Rajvanshi

He came home running,
His long legs pulling him in
An effortless stride,
With his forehead glistening
In sweat,
Sweat of his aim,
His goal, his life,
He came in running and
Wrapped his long arms
Around his ma,
Holding her in a bear tight hug,
Swinging her around,
Slowly putting her down,
And giving her the ring,
The Sapphire ring she wanted,
But could never buy.
The ring she left for the
Blue shirt she could buy for him,
The ring she had forgotten about
In this chase of survival.
The ring he had now bought for her
With all the love
He could pour in it.
The ring that made his
Mother smile.
And he bought it
With his very
First salary.


12 comments on “Sapphire.

  • I bought a blue-fire spinel ring with my first salary, and think of it as a Sapphire, my birthstone. I was born on September 21st, hence 21 Shades of Blue, my site name. That ring was precious to me, it was a literal labor of love. I gave it to someone once (not my mom), hoping she would ask me about it, but she never did. Thankfully she returned it. I wear it like an albatross around my neck now, to be a literal representation of a psychological burden that feels like a curse. I like your poem’s story better, much more pleasant πŸ™‚

  • Kid, you stride legs wide and high step – blows my mind you’re so young – words cascade and crescendo – up to ethers out of reach – your secrets to the tops of these glossy boxes out of reach – strive, step, and always leave in the dust these out of touch dusty poesy creeps

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