In my poems
What do you like to see?
Is it me or my strength
Of imagination?
Whatever you like
Like those with pleasure
And freedom
I am delightfully
At my knees
Seeing upon my poems
Of darkness
My wife does not
See me eye to eye
Though I tell her
They are half of me
And the other half is
my imagination
I do not know
Whether she believes me or not
But she can not stand
And takes her bed seriously
Since then
Maybe this is why some people say we are a strange bunch. A different breed. Maybe so. We write with our heart, our inner most feeling come forth. Also extra sensitive, that is why we understand and read each other. Beautiful poem, but I understand her.
beautiful and true, my dear respected poet, experience of all. Thanks for good write.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
This poem of yours remind me of ending lines of one of my hindi poem' Kavi ki patni' which goes like this: Kavita ko patni apni saut samajhti hai, ki kavi ki patni kavita hi hoti hai../. But who cares! Ha Ha Ha