Moon Is On Wane

Moon Is On Wane short poem

Photo by quapan

The full Moon is on wane
Shedding her last attic glory on Earth
And every aspect of Earth’s being
Scorched too much in blazing Sun,
Enjoying the Moonshine bath like budding spinsters
Drenching in swelling teenage mirth.
The air is merry, blowing on full scale
With mad space subduing all obstacles,
Finds pleasure in mute game
Being played by Queen Cynthia with passing clouds.
Someone standing on high altar of rocky cradle
Watches such wonders with roving eyes,
Nicely greeted by peeping Moon through a palm trees nodding branches,
Playful with rising gale in nursery joy.
The lamps of night with gleaming halos float,
Silence guards the lone watcher.
Of sudden a lonely thought chills his mind
That about the aging beauties of fair mortals
Melting in alarming space on times steer
In same fashion like one above gazing eternal.
He is certain of her diminishing glory,
That not to reflects again on same focus,
Enticing none to fantasy being too ripened,
Save a passive onlooker, may in conjugal wants.
He knows in his heart of hearts
It is no return for her, to eclipse forever
Even after fortnight, unlike the Moon.

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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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