Sonnet 49: My Lover Did Not Know How To Keep Head Poem by Pijush Biswas

My lover did not know how to keep head
She was fair lady, ingenious box
That one word promise I could not so tread,
I was shifted to so far a distance
As evening sun sets in, after it's ox
Who mere is my name, before burns fort dance
Of grass, and merely to unfeed and go
'Tself, where stay some but in consolation
Stolen away; as an incumbent so
As falling leaves of green, I fade away
She proposes to love and I'm to moan
One that was sheen, could not have been dull day
One kiss in emptiness' unfairness,
Rather transiency holds not me press.



February 16,2018
Place: Gazole