Waiting behind the curtain of time,
For a glimpse of the Maiden to rhyme,
The Maiden for a moment,
Appeared through the veil to foment,
Through her naughty eye lashes,
Her naughty moving lips,
Messaged her unrequited love for me,
Massaged my soul back home,
One night she had temperature,
She asked me to measue,
Neither I had a thermometer,
Nor I was a doctor,
In curiosity I said how to measure,
In sheer anxiety she pulled me towards her,
Asked me now measure,
The Boiling Temperature,
Her beats echoing like a drum,
I just rested my head on her bossom,
Her soft tender bossom,
Tickling Twisting in blossom,
A life time memory to encounter,
Cherished dreams in the hangover,
The Hangover continues life long,
Feel at times to clock back for walking with her a mile long,
Waiting since then at the time's corner,
To catch a glimpse of the treasured memory,
..........................................
(c) Akshaya Kumar Das
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Her soft tender bossom! ! Thanks for sharing this poem with us.
welcome Dear Edward Kofi Louis: 3