Morning In The Park Poem by Bishnupada Sethi

The young Sun in the eastern sky
Is up with the lipstick of his mother
Put all over the face
And asking the Moon on the western part
To go back as its time is up.

Storks and doves are down
On the moist grass carpets,
Searching for food being hungry,
At ease with them, undisturbed
They block my path.

Here is a wake up call
From the cuckoo hidden in a tree
For all its kith and kin.
Down below, I see an empty bench
With dark red flowers dropped from the Kadamba tree.
The lovers of last night sat there
And have left their warmth
Promises, dreams and whispers.
The tree has witnessed them all
And feeling shy to tell.

The partisan gardener
Has grown patches of marigold,
Big, beautiful of many colors
With all his care;
As the young girls brisk past that corner,
Their faces blush.

A group of old man,
All members of a laughing club,
Located in that corner,
Are not shouting Ho! Ho! Haa! Haa!
Today to keep fit.
As I pass by, I overhear
That the lead member
Singing Radhe Radhe with the group
Is absent today
And he will not come back to the park again.

The Sun rises further up.
There is a whistle from the watchman, not visible
Signaling the time of the day.
The gate will be closed after a while
As the last man moved out.
While outside world will be active,
The park would rest;
And try to get over the shock, it got
From the loss of one of its member,
Who never missed to be there for so many years!