- - - My Stella- - - Poem by Prabir Gayen

- - My stella- - 33

Time is gone with all the fruits crossing the bridge,
grey hair palsied nerve and heart weak and wimpy,
The breath languid and listless with no sign ofenergeticyeast.
The song of gnats and fluttering toneof marlet doth inspire the call of the world beyond.
Bed- ridded and with folded wings awaitingthis woeful soul for thee o stella!
Thy wealthmight embed a new life,
Thy empyrean sculpture plastic and ductile,
Inner equipoise connatural to harmonious footingof richness, divinity.
O stella, dame of myhungry- bitten being,
a squint glimpse of thy ocular vista,
Snappy sparkle of thy supple soulmight resuscitateme again.