Sohan Prasad Sharma
Sohan Prasad Sharma Poems
The game that is in rhythm with the body and the time, that is what we call football.
Stamina high and the body always in ply, sweating profusely running all the time.
Up and down of that ninety by forty five, with an intention to dance with the ball.
Dancing and dribbling we reach the goal and sometimes what a luck it is a foul.
...
In the dream I was roaming high in the hill,
came the thunder growling to me with the chill of the rain.
I Ran up for the shade and the thunder said,
...
Pyre of wood is made where I am laid,
with wood up and below without a thread.
Bare came I and bare I go without a shred,
...
Unkempt minds catch and separate, the wings of the inspiration.
Neither feel its presence nor the fragrance that swirls as it passes by.
Hidden is the sense of perception, to some it is just for interpretation.
Some with passion of imagination pluck the flower and destroy the creation.
...
Deep in the forest of Pine the floor full of needle so soft.
It is cozy when you snug and the needle neither do punch.
Silent I stood and heard some movement the louder as it came near.
The women of the village with Doko and namlo collecting the pine (needle) .
...
The river of the tears seems never ending,
the corrupt seems never to be repenting.
Situations are told to have some new changes,
but is the same as were during the ages.
...
The Best Poem Of Sohan Prasad Sharma
Football
The game that is in rhythm with the body and the time, that is what we call football.
Stamina high and the body always in ply, sweating profusely running all the time.
Up and down of that ninety by forty five, with an intention to dance with the ball.
Dancing and dribbling we reach the goal and sometimes what a luck it is a foul.
The goal keeper watches moving and shouting, encouraging team and himself alert.
A chance missed is always a golden chance, who knows when will be another to time.
The crowd all shouting and dancing, the atmosphere more thrilling than dancing in the bar.
No toxic needed it is the wine, net is the glass, ground the bottle and ball the wine.
The moment of being in the field is out of anxiety and the moment of the bliss.
All the eye set on the ball, mind alert not to miss the goal as strikes the time.
Sometimes anger interrupts the peace of mind and if overtaken may be out of the line.
Suppressing the anger of the tussle, compromises are made with smile and handshake.
Ninety minutes of time is the moment, to break the opponent with the goal and the attack.
Whatever is the result and the goal, both the party seem to love to roll in the field.
The ball 'the wine' sometimes here and sometimes in between the game and it's roll.
The winner and the looser what so ever smiles and leaves the field hand in hand.
Nothing compares the roll, dribbling, dodge, the running and the sweating in football.
No game is there where with the player the crowd is intoxicated and lost all in all.
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12/30/2025 12:46:28 PM # 1.0.0
