Leaves brown on a dusty path
Swirling in the twist of air
Dreams latched to every breath
Every drop of hope lay there
Silver lines disappear in silk
Creamy moonlight floats on milk
Dreams tomorrow on a child's hair
Every drop of hope lay there
Summer honey suck in gold
Flowers blossom leaves grow old
A lonely book on a rocking chair
Every drop of hope lay there
Garden elves and fairy songs
Wrongful rites and rightful wrongs
Life inside us burns to dare
Every drop of hope lies there
Swirling in the twist of air
Dreams latched to every breath
Every drop of hope lay there
Silver lines disappear in silk
Creamy moonlight floats on milk
Dreams tomorrow on a child's hair
Every drop of hope lay there
Summer honey suck in gold
Flowers blossom leaves grow old
A lonely book on a rocking chair
Every drop of hope lay there
Garden elves and fairy songs
Wrongful rites and rightful wrongs
Life inside us burns to dare
Every drop of hope lies there
"That's quite a rhyme,khub sundor.Very expressive of the engine of imagination that runs within u."
ReplyDeleteAritra
As Seamus Heaney said... May hope and history rhyme...
ReplyDelete:) Isn't it a juvenile poem,Mr Chakraborty? That's why I didn't even name it. Did u like the poem?
ReplyDeleteI liked the form more than the poem.as far as being juvenile is concerned, all my poems of last year seem to juvenile to me now.but I write poems for my own sake, not for how a critic would judge.they bear testimony to the the truth of a past moment.thats why they are so dear to me, even if I think that formally they could have been better. so give it a name and memorialise the moment.
ReplyDeleteYes u r ryt. the words hold in them the truth of every drop of feeling at a moment. I'm reminded of Keats. :) He threw away his Ode to Nightingale, huh?
ReplyDelete