A Look-388 Poem by Smruti Ranjan Mohanty

A LOOK -388

Your Golden Locks

When I Look at You

When I look at you,
my eyes get lost in your hair—
beautiful strands reminding me
of dark clouds drifting in a summer sky.
But soon I see my folly:
how can fleeting clouds ever match
the grace of your hair—
so original, so captivating,
so soothing to the eyes?

Your golden locks resemble
the rays of the morning sun,
yet gentler, more tender,
more cooling to behold.
When you toss your hair,
it flows like dancing waves
across the blue sea,
like the fluttering wings of birds
in the boundless sky.

Sometimes your tresses swing
like rain-soaked vines
swaying with the wind—
yet more graceful, more enchanting,
a rare delight to the eyes.

And when your locks move,
they are rain in a distant forest,
a nightingale's song in the desert,
a garden of roses blooming
in barren land—
and with every sway,
you steal a little more of me.

With every strand that brushes me,
I fall in love a little more.

Smruti Ranjan Mohanty©
India
All rights reserved
12.9.2025