My dormant anklets
Hit a grit
On the shallow coast
Of my unexplored shore
It bruised my brimmed memoir
And pour ink on my lashes
It painted a vivid dream
And sprawled my eyes with red kohl
Sprout and spout from my heart
Ah! An encounter with the past
And I felt relaxed and retired
In that divine presence of mind
Sandhya
u packed so many metaphors that i need a second reading!
a lovely picture of a poem...your past memoirs bruising in...an d a painting of it in memory...absolutly poetic
yeah, quite an interesting poem...showing power of past over the present; which is taken aback, usually, being incapable of facing the unforgettable past, dear....
oh! yes; an encounter with the past on the shallow yet unexplored shores of your dreaming mind...eloquent write Sandhya...you bring in lots of metaphors all through this write...10
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
You've created a lovely image. I enjoyed reading it thanks.