Telephone...

Ah! those days,

I still recall,

when I was treated like, 

a VIP member of the house.

Positioned on low carved stool,

handwoven crochet cover I adorned.

As soon as I rang,

you at once rushed with joy,

to hear a voice of your closed-ones.

Connecting two hearts,

that beat for each other,

love talks and good night kisses,

your secrets, I hold.

With intense curiosity,

all gathered around,

waiting for their specific call.

No harmful rays or hazards I caused,

convenient and safe,

I was to use.

But, you consider me,

now clumsy and old-fashioned.

My voice is lovely,

like a bird's whisper, 

you said once.

Now here I lie,

in a deserted corner,

no one to praise,

or wipe off the dirt.

Advanced technologies running,

your lives smoothly and efficiently,

and I reminiscing about,

only past good memories.

© Sonia Madaan