a poem by Rita Malhotra Dr

Her heart leaps as she
drinks it’s beauty
and burns with desire
in it’s reflected firelight.
The belief that the gift of
a diamond perpetuates
love, adorns her face with
a complete smile.
It’s overpowering presence
on her ring-finger lends a
new definition to her and
splashes her with
colours of romance…

But, thoughts soon turn to
the street-child’s begging bowl:
his diamond is a single coin
dropped into it;
to a mother cradling the
infant in her arms:
her diamond is a smile adding
sparkle to the baby’s eyes;
to the terminally sick man
on his hospital bed:
his diamonds are the doctor’s
reassuring words;
for them the diamond on
a finger ring is just
plain carbon, no different
from the roadside charcoal
she smiles in realisation
that happiness is perhaps
the only real diamond…