Love’s Brief Hour

Loves Brief Hour short poem

Photo by Helga Weber

In love’s brief hour,
A new joy is born, quite uncommon,
Spelling rhythms of stepping affair coming up.
Half drawn eyes glowing, full of fineries,
Giving gentle knocks in hesitating heart.
It is the glorious hour, being in passion fever,
Endlessly exhorts for moment pity.
Who knows what runs in another care,
Perhaps sinks in all earthly desires,
Arrows stout refusal with determined shot.
So she is the guest of a palace winding up
Or mystery’s curved angel, child of platonic birth,
Poises sleeving laugh, of unnatural genre.
Fledging youth with restless wings glides on fancied flower,
Smelling forbidden fragrance
Sneaking to her bower; parting flight sickens,
Lips bitten, tears rolled; no healing nod
Ever found, lessening tremors, memories rolling
Like ruthless avalanches, thundering,
Giving snowy touch to an occult living.
Dear image embracing, demanding,
Set in panoramic facing, when Earth is too old.

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Shuvo Chakraborty

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lecturer and advocate in university and incometax tribunal. an english poet and diehard follower of john keats
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