Wordsmiths Of The World Poem by Aniruddha Pathak

A word gets born picked up by a poet,
Or a penster turning out pretty prose,
Awhile haply that lives without a let,
Ah fragrant, fresh like a rare breed of rose,
To wander thence a great deal whilst still young,
Nor yet foot-loose, nor acquiring baggage,
Fresh enough if fashioned from foreign tongue,
Yet, all things alive and not aught soon age.

So, wordsmiths1 of world when get hold of it,
And chew it— dog as does a piece of bone,
Twisting it in time, bit by tedious bit,
Begins to bear hues not hitherto known;
Poor little word soon gasps for precious breath,
And dies an untimely premature death!
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1. Wordsmiths: The allusion here is to media men so busy meeting deadlines, with breaking news that they have little time to watch the words they use. The poet has worked in a newspaper (Times)and knows how hectic things often get.
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Sonnets | 03.06.13 |