Back Then…

Back then when in love I longed for a pair of hands
Ached for those hands to gently fondle my  dried tears
that sprang from the immaterial source, due to intense
dolour, dejection and despondence that lasted for decades.

Back then when in grief, I panted for breath, fresh and gay
for those unspoken strings to let out a huge stream of sighs,
to melt down the heaviness into threads of wool waving 
softly, in the gasp and then colour those with the golden paint of beatitude. 

Back then when in distress, I yearned for a divine soul
In person to transmogrify my sorrowful grudge into 
petals of butter rose, worn but true, pure but less aromatic,
and then inquire that personified love to hold those petals from falling. 

Now often, I wish those worn bits  of sentiments to return to me,
Just to complete my womanhood and metamorphose me 
into a New Woman with the same Heart!