Srimayee Ganguly

One Little Gypsy Thief

It was a tired old day, when at dusk, I descended
Past the towering orchids; grassy bucolic dreams-
When I saw the nebula of stardust started congealing
In the heaven above where my castles I had built.

She dwelt amidst the echoing hills,
Mirroring the regalia of good old Byzantine reign
In her verve I found a temple of love
In her wild eyes, a dark cumulus haven.

And there I stood for a thousand years it seemed
Like a poet entranced by the lily of the valley.
Or a drifter whose oars had gone astray
A traveller lost somewhere in the meander of ...