Tribute To An Industrialist Friend Poem by K.S.Subramanian Subramanian

A long, tiring journey; lids close
for the night, not for sleep;
Memories, some warm, some blasé
crowd over leaving no moss.
Under the blazing Sun I take a peep
At one to let my spirits rise;
He. An odd mix of beauty and brain
dallied with the wisdom of the Muse.
Self-made, well-travelled but withdrawn
he let his self warm into pen;
A student of the Muse, not of its school.
death nipped buds springing late;
A particle of faith, deathless in my file
Is his testimony to me, fellow poet.