In the silvery water of the wintry bay,
the moon is melting away its sorbet.
And pouring in the bay its honeyed drips,
emulsifying the spring till the brim.
Satiating the hearts of solemn lovers,
then sending them to a secret amour.
All unspirituals look chaste in this shoal,
lying all over all drunk, shiny, bare souls.
And deep beneath, on the wet, stony sea-bed,
Lovers are tied as one with a temporal thread.
In sync, both moon and the sea are churning,
a sherbet for all lovers, far intriguing.
Serving lovers chalices on the moon beams,
their swan songs taking them to astral dreams.
Copyrights © 2018 DrNikhat Bano
All rights reserved
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem