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Ode to Aashu
O Ashu, My pen hesitates to record down,
You remain an experience in me to crown.
Those moments of prosperity we shared;
Are cunningly implore me like a mad.
Hands betray me to limit those experiences;
Indeed, it limits to feel the reverence.
Your widowed shelter, pines those blossoming;
I visited once after your knock of returning.
You may encounter millions of events there;
I wish, Be honest to the laments of here?
Remember that elegant statue that often infatuated me;
Gather that bold preview manifested in she.
She could tickle your hesitated desire;
But, never mingle fire with your perspire.
Never measure your silences there; who often mocks at the experience;
Always, treasure the experience that shocks our grievances.
Never betray your cunning there; who often welcomes shinning;
Always shine; even with out light in search of blossoming.
Never feel you are in Exile there, make your exile a hostile,
Always rhyme with your present; forget past events, all puerile.
Of course a taste of Joycian flavor; keep these buds healthy.
"Silence, Exile & Cunning" will make your path to the Acardy
Tuna Biswal
| Submitted Date |
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Tuesday, April 15, 2008 |
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Poets
