Mother Love
As I think of her she smile
all the blue and their rile
they fade in dark
but for whit a while
I long for the last
this sojourn to end, last mile
and this longingness that
swells in vast
ends in hug like the sand do
to the waters of Nile
when she flows she hug and take
away the grains with her
and when sleeps and sleeps unawake
this sand once cool, now behaves
as fur
when I stare this mirror 'o me
and look my teeth
how glisten they shine
and too those lines of our
beloved Keats
smile nor lines a possess of
mine
I nay have nay smile of me
or these words are nay of mine
all I have my mother who glee
and make this smile glow glisten
in shine
<Deleted User> (13762)
Sun 22nd Jan 2017 09:44
it is quite incredible the number of writers from all over the world that contribute to this site and make it such a varied forum for the written and spoken word. India provides a large number of those contributions and gives the impression of having a rich tradition of poetry and story telling. What comes across in those contributions is a love for the archaic form which I have no idea how to explain. Is it down to schooling, is it a fashion or just simply a style that is suited to the national psyche? Or is it down to online translation? Whichever, I rather like it. I guess I find it slightly more difficult to leave feedback to these poems. Yours Nirjesh feels a little jumbled, but there is an undercurrent of beauty and a flow like that of the waters you make comparison to. For that reason I particularly like:
when she flows she hug and take
away the grains with her
and when sleeps and sleeps unawake
this sand once cool, now behaves
as fur
and
these words are nay of mine
all I have my mother who glee
and make this smile glow glisten
in shine
I hope you keep posting and take from this site as much as you give. All the best,
Colin