Portia Burton

Portia Burton Poems

When in the evening I feel alone,
I sing to myself your song,
And feel your presence in my heart,
As if you are singing along.

The delicate evening flowers
Have opened out their hearts
To exchange their fragrance
With musical notes of the birds.

How this poem weighs heavy on me!
I want to shrug it off or scratch it out
Like a scab covering a throbbing wound,
Or put it away in a dark corner

While I was leaving the garden,
The flowers asked me with care,
'Tell us, friend, Do you want to carry
Something with you from here? '

While I am reading my new poem,
Several days after its completion,
It strangely doesn't seem to be mine,
But a reflection of someone else.

Sometimes while going to sleep
I feel I am my own tomb,
The ceiling above its marble lid,
Or am I returning to mother's womb?

After a daylong arduous trek,
We had erected a makeshift tent,
Others went to sleep but I was awake,
Although tired and equally spent.

When will you come, oh, tell me please!
I am getting submerged in the night's abyss!
The moon and the stars have averted their eyes,
Oh, I am forsaken even by the fire-flies!

Oh, this dreamlike moment!
The sweetness of your kiss,
I didn't know until now
That love would be like this!

Lost in each other, we sat in silence
In the soothing shade of the great oak tree,
While in the west the sun seemed to be reluctant
To go down saying 'good bye' to you and me.

O my love, only this much I'd like to say,
In your embrace forever I'd like to stay.
I pray and with me you pray too,
'Let love bind us together, me and you.'

Sometimes in the night
When I feel divided
By my own personal pull
Towards my inner core,

Don't worry, mom, about me,
I am your princess, and one day
A queen I would surely be!


I am of the earth,
Heir to its fertility,

I am of the water,


Molested by the wind
Disowned by the parent trees,
Numbed by such violence

Dear mom, on this Valentine’s Day,
Perhaps you would have liked to take
Your friends and me to a ‘rose garden’
Instead of purchasing roses for us;

While taking leave of its shade,
I gaze thankfully at my favorite tree,
Embrace its rough and hard trunk
As I would embrace someone dear to me.

Startled by the noise, I rush to the window
To see many birds perched all around
On the nearby trees and the mute buildings,

Oh, that fateful night! ....
When you wanted to see me
In 'totality' in the candlelight,
Before going far away

Why have you entered, o wandering cloud,
In the secluded chamber of my heart?
Here you'll find only wounded poems
Which have been kept studiously apart.

Portia Burton Biography

Student of the University of Cambridge, U.K. Interested in poetry, Western Classical Music, and painting. Humanist, secular, non-confirmist.)

The Best Poem Of Portia Burton

To A Departed Loving Poet...

When in the evening I feel alone,
I sing to myself your song,
And feel your presence in my heart,
As if you are singing along.

Then I feel like a lotus flower
That closes itself with a sigh,
Or like a lonely teardrop
That trembles on the brink of the eye.

I know not whose sorrow is contained
In your song, yet I sing,
And see you in my mind's eye,
Consoling some unknown sad being.

Now only a tomb is your address,
Yet people search for you for some solace.

Portia Burton Comments

love your poems 21 July 2019

so inventive and real well done

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