Weals Of Nature Poem by Kinshuk Banik

Weals Of Nature

Rating: 5.0


In the poetic land I dwell,
Not like the man Peter Bell,
''A primrose by the river's brim,
Was just a yellow primrose to him,
And was nothing more."
Also me the gifts of nature allure.
And like the creator of Bell,
In poetic land I do dwell.
One says that I have no feel;
And one, I copy from others.
Pierces me the undeserved weal,
But I write with my joy, brothers!
Such as―'Once in a call of the south,
The river reached its mouth,
A divine streak of light and its grace
The drenched and gloomed grass did solace.
There full was the gale,
And scent of clover to inhale.
The river flew with all her might,
With a lonely, tweeting bird.
Laughing were all in sight,
Being untouched there was too hard.
Free we wandered and trod there,
At the scenery we did stare.
Trod we above and beside,
Ere us the river did stride.
Again we came home.
But my soul there still does roam.
My thoughts, the scene does gild
And makes joyful, like to see golden crop in field.'
And like―'Once, her water was beneath my toe,
And where was above, there was, but shallow.
There and then the lively greenery
The sun did gild, and her scenery
Was beyond the divine, and was likely to be
Auspicious for the gods to see.
There, on her, cattle did graze,
And the sight, all of us did amaze.
The golden green, the large and fluffy cloud
Could allure anyone to sing of it aloud.
The gild and green sprouts were waiting to bloom,
Tossed they heads, tossed they heads, with no gloom.
That pale and ailing stream,
Today with power does gleam.
The sprouts grew to their large form,
Alike them, joyful was even a worm,
Such joyful was the lamb with her fleece.
All the sight was divine, no less than Venice.
The river flows and is full to the brim,
For the heart then was nothing grim.
When remember of it, inside I smile to laugh.
An hour or a couple there is never enough.'
Now would you say that I have no feel?
And if, even now is a doubt still,
Then read of me aloud,
And there would be a crowd
To see you writing for me.
But I shall write with my eternal glee.

Tuesday, October 1, 2019
Topic(s) of this poem: nature,river,sad
COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Chinedu Dike 01 October 2019

A free flight of creativity on winged imagination. Well articulated and nicely penned with clarity of thought and mind. Thanks for sharing, Banik.

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Kinshuk Banik

Kinshuk Banik

Kolkata, West Bengal, India
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