She long poem

Photo by YLev

An awakening moon she is in wakeful dream,
A fairy in all true sense, gracing your life’s bend.
When you like a confused caravan standing before vast
Desert of heart’s domain,
In desperate quest for quenching thirst of mind, partly shattered,
When night appeared too long in desolate field,
When scornful needs poorly rebuked by lengthy letters of books,
When stormy love appeared too weak to pinch the subdued flesh
And thy light winged mind gathered deficient petals of soft sense,
The very word LOVE looks a mirage in platonic eyes.
Apparition of a caring lass shaking your fragile glass
Swiftly filled your empty casket with all rosy assurances.
Thine heart contained roving sleek images of her
Meditating in different shapes in fancy’s high hill wonderland
Then started the endless roaming over soft pastures
Where thousands flowers nestling all honied hours
For yon warmest vision through her breast.
She was not a girl of common crest
Like a star of dawn in your life’s first yawn glowed, too tender and tiny was she.
Then looking at each other in childish manner
Distracted in bouncy life’s way and withered.
The plant shown promising with seasonal flowers
Dried much before winter’s close call at lover’s garden.
She vanished like a tiny bird in vast dale
Or like a dewdrop sucked by maiden rays of scorching twists
With faint hope reappearing before such oblivious dissolution, weaving differences
Year after year for such parting.
Two souls grew in their own fashion setting
Variants patterns in life’s tall frame.
Then on sudden the road they had wrongly taken
Was abandoned on faith’s happy instruction.
New way of correct visions and blushing decisions
Laid out another plot still unheard of even in epic zone.
The plant which once dried in forgetful snow
Appeared living on hope’s summer touch.
The caravan guy carried over desert storm
For long hours,
Set his journey total to scent the first
Flower of same plant he had seen in childhood.
The garden with stout door opened by a toiling gardener waiting for offering
His only flower
And it was only he, only he, only he and no other.
He stretched his determined hand to receive the
Same, which once lost in life’s jesting game.
And put in his caring casket with raining kisses.
The flower for forever, not to dry, never never
Descended with most charming manner
For others’ honest envies.
He knew the value and called her in very soft name MILU with poetical sense.
Another girl was born with adoring hearts appreciating part,
She is now a butterfly in his garden.

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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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