The Passing Fancies

a poem by Meena

The whistle blew, the train moved.
Hurriedly, I moved to the cabin,
My alert mind said “OH GENTS”.

Struggling with my bags, here comes the help;
“Let me” said he, carrying them to my seat.
With lump in my mind, I thumped myself to my seat.

With the hairs swinging in the gentle breeze;
My eyes rolled to him,
My alert mind said “HEY HANDSOME”,
His smile twisting and turning my heart.

My eyes glued to the sceneries passing by;
My mind glued to that passer by,
Our smiles passed on for aliens to come;
My mind wondered about the fastest machine,
my heart or the train?

The whistle blew, the train stopped.
My eyes moved again to that passer by,
My hands carrying my bags,
My legs carrying me;
My alert mind said “The Passing Fancies”…