Treasure Island

Pradip Chattopadhyay

(28.01.1961 / Kolkata)

The Last Hut


At the last hut of the village
Lives the girl of tender age
Her eyes though love filled
Meet only the long paddy field!

Forlorn on a lonely summer noon
She hugs her image on the stream
Wishes on her way would come soon
The boy she had found in her dream!

The last hut is ever too far
But for the winds blown away
None knows if ever a traveler
Would stray to her door one day!

She hugs her image on the stream
Washes her cute rice bran face
If ever comes the boy of her dream
Finds out her last hut address!

Her heart weaves a wish upon a star
On moonlit nights in silvers’ gleam
Next morn if the boy comes to her
She would ever cage him in her dream!

Submitted: Tuesday, April 29, 2014
Edited: Tuesday, April 29, 2014

Do you like this poem?
0 person liked.
0 person did not like.

Topic(s): love

Read this poem in other languages

This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.

I would like to translate this poem »

word flags

What do you think this poem is about?

Comments about this poem (The Last Hut by Pradip Chattopadhyay )

Enter the verification code :

Read all 5 comments »

Top Poems

  1. Phenomenal Woman
    Maya Angelou
  2. The Road Not Taken
    Robert Frost
  3. If You Forget Me
    Pablo Neruda
  4. Still I Rise
    Maya Angelou
  5. Dreams
    Langston Hughes
  6. Annabel Lee
    Edgar Allan Poe
  7. If
    Rudyard Kipling
  8. Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
    Robert Frost
  9. I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
    Maya Angelou
  10. A Dream Within A Dream
    Edgar Allan Poe

New Poems

  1. SOMETIMES, ikpat Ekomobong
  2. GOD'S LOVE, ikpat Ekomobong
  3. ' [ One Sunday ] ', Ency Bearis
  4. STARS, ikpat Ekomobong
  5. Walking Through Moonlight, Zillur Rahman Shuvro
  6. Hold On, Amitava Sur
  7. The Sun Has Left, Elia Michael
  8. TIME WEIGHS HEAVY, Colin Ian Jeffery
  9. My Earth My Love, Akhtar Jawad
  10. Oinkabye - Lincoln Park Zoo, Ima Ryma

Poem of the Day

poet Alfred Lord Tennyson

It little profits that an idle king,
By this still hearth, among these barren crags,
Match'd with an aged wife, I mete and dole
Unequal laws unto a savage race,
...... Read complete »

   
[Hata Bildir]