From A Vagabond To A Poet. Poem by Subrata Ray

From A Vagabond To A Scholar.

Had you had that luminary,
Where no wings dare to reach,
Have you seen that angel in his own light,
From the confused pulpit of your dreams,
If not, you are not well wrought to sense the sense,
Yours is an 'empty vaunt' in the cycle of tense!

Stretching the biological conscious,
You produce pranks up to the Don Quixote,
And hurl burled hubris to a poet(Shelley)
Who more than Puck sucks milk from divine breast!

Ah! comicality from an Wit leaves irony on Age,
No fire in the pyre but a staged mirage!