Treasure Island

Pradip Chattopadhyay

(28.01.1961 / Kolkata)

Not A Love Poem: A Confession

I confess to you
I hardly confess to her.

Why I say this is
I often deliberately miss
To say the sorry-s I owe her
For having found fault with her
Only discovering after some hours
It was me who was wrong all along
What she did was amply right
What she did was with farsight
Her acts take care of only my needs
My wants she always perfectly reads.

A piece of the dairy white sweet in my lunchbox
Soft silken milky treat
When melts in my mouth
I remember this morn I told her
Why you bring these damned plain sweets
And not those juicy colored scented treats
Don’t put any of those in my lunchbox
Not caring her face’s strains of shocks!

I have forgotten though she has remembered
My utterings of emotion its every word
How I miss dear those plain white sweets
Pure unencumbered most delightful treat.

I have forgotten she remembers
My companion of all weathers
She picks my choice she knows my mind
Yet for her a sorry I hardly find.

Don’t you think tonight in her ears
I should coo a sorry in unuttered whispers?

Submitted: Thursday, May 08, 2014
Edited: Thursday, May 08, 2014

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Topic(s): woman

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Comments about this poem (Not A Love Poem: A Confession by Pradip Chattopadhyay )

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  • Susy Evelyne (5/12/2014 3:06:00 PM)

    You are lucky indeed that your companion of all weathers prepares your lunchbox. And you do appreciate it really. A sweet way to repay her sweetness would be: take her out to dinner! (Report) Reply

  • Valsa George (5/8/2014 10:46:00 PM)

    Definitely, you should 'coo a sorry in unuttered words'. She deserves it.....! All men are of the same stuff...! !
    Enjoyed! (Report) Reply

  • Lorraine Colon (5/8/2014 12:18:00 PM)

    Never fail to say I'm sorry to a loved one - it means so much. And the day will come when their ear will hear no more. Then your words of contrition will be useless. (Report) Reply

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