Treasure Island

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.

Submitted: Monday, March 07, 2011

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