No my friend, your wait is on
I am yet to give you the baton
The race for the score is on
I saw you looping pole vaults
Several contenders you trashed on
From far you leapt and bound
Nicking my rear almost not yet
The glint in your eyes, I caught
Stealth sheathed your nudity belied
Your gaze on the pinnacle fixed
I know not your tricks
But this is not the day,
Not the baton today I concede
The stage I choose not to share
I know the fortress will collapse
The seige the onslaught held off, so far
But not today, today I stand
Smiling alone in my hall of fame
- - - - -
Seema Jayaraman, Mumbai,17Nov2015
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Superb, A feel of a poet is well explored....Nicely written poem.