An Apple A Day Poem by Pradip Chattopadhyay
An Apple A Day
I tell a lie when I say
Poems in mind always play
Streams on endless output
My mind is never vacantly mute.
To tell you the truth it oft happens
When riding to work on buses or trains
Like a lost river dry up my thoughts
Stubbornly dry much like walnuts.
Funnily it doesn’t for long last
It’s preordained mind mustn’t rust
A fellow traveler brings out an apple
Nibble at it with it grapple.
In boredom my eyes at the scene gape
How the apple gradually changes shape
With each bite a chunk is torn
In each bite a poem is born.
How true. We can turn anything into a poem with a little imagination. I find myself thinking in rhymes - that scares me!
I tell a lie when I say Poems in mind always play Streams on endless output My mind is never vacantly mute.............exactly happens to all poets, i relate with it... excellent writing...10
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/26/2024 4:03:33 AM # 1.0.0.1119
I like it. When the mind wanders it finds buried treasure.