Bazi alis Subrata Ray (January / Formerly East Pahistan)
The Love You Foster He Would Reap.
Yours is anchor,
To bind the mariner's ship,
Yours is prayer,
To laugh -away each day's grief,
Yours is vacant look,
To lay upon the distant horizon,
Yours is un-read book,
Treasured in your body's shrine.
Yours is a mud-built hut,
And you wish the emperor to come,
For you are a abstract butt,
For you wish your Lover should it benumb.
Yours is a cage with your unknown bird,
And it cries for liberty with opening of the lid
Your lover is not a deaf, -
He feels your irons, feels your grief,
In your tearful, he sets His ship,
The love you foster He would reap.
Comments about this poem (The Love You Foster He Would Reap. by Bazi alis Subrata Ray )
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