SILENT FEELINGS

When it's past evening

and I wait for my wife all angry,

the doorbell rings and

she is there with flushed face,

dishevelled hair and hidden behind

dozen grocery bags,

I remain speechless.



When some days I open my eyes

late in the morning,

find the house silent,

and know that kids have been

dropped to school,

and trace the smell of toast from by bed,

I go silent.



When there's some party night

and we get ready to go,

she does some magic for sure,

the beauty puts me in awe.

Words get stuck somewhere.

I just manage to smile.



When she caresses

grey hairline at my temples,

and says she likes it this way,

I swear to myself that

I will never dye it again.

I feel the silent pride.