BAMDEV
SHARMA
POETS AND PENSIVE ORCHARD
Poets tell stories
splashing poised
ink
on the numb sheet
dabbling words
like scurrying
ants
or simmering
clouds
visible or
invisible.
Poets wish to make
quests
to turn sand dunes
to castles
and break
the walls of
castles
when words twist
and twirl
to crawl on the
illustrious sheets
splitting woes
scratching
pensive human
psyche.
Poets are not
multi- headed
hydras
to make defense on
their own
neither are they
laundry men
to clean smeared
linen.
Their words get
soaked
with moist wind
as if
they were dream
of the moon
to be camouflaged
in clouds
trickling
golden jewel.
Poets don’t often
wave waxing
metaphor
or chilling
ironies
but expand thread
where Cinderella
can escape from
trap and watch
wily flowers
blooming in the
sky.
Desperate to pull
poets drag
ligament of the
sky
to weave dreams
for the
pensive orchard.
IN THE GARDEN
When the chilly
wind blows
Tiny petals fall
Dry leaves flutter
And the moon is
pacing
Towards under
cloudy canopy.
Flashing moon gleams
And insects scurry
over meek leaves
Dew drops trickle
Hedgehogs hide
And rodents begin
To dart briskly
over branches
Twisting tail
jumping in lurid
Complacence
Squirrels and
lizards
In serpentine joy
Stalk over
Benign branches
Pecking coy
leaves.
Insistent lovers
hide
In the dusky
drizzle
Lost into indulged
love
Sighing in
disgust.
In the pervasive
net
Hanging on the
chestnut tree
An impatient
spider
Waits his days
In ceaseless
thread
For a culprit
mess.
The world has its
go
And life has its
sway
From dawn to the
twilight
In diurnal chores
and ray.
MISTY CAROLS
Misty carols
of morning birds
simmer across the
sky
gliding
with the wind
when the sunny
rays
sweep through
ship's mast
ready
to poke slumberous
sky-----
Propitious hearts
spew out
jocund love
as if seeping
through
oozing chest
in the early dawn
cloyed and
clustering
through
wily
marigold plants.
Pervasive whims
smear
in the air
whispering:
" Sing for
love
like cooing doves!
"
Then no words
are heard
but silence
that clasps
everything around
in mellifluous hum
before
another
intoxicated dawn!
SEPTEMBER DAYS
September days
Ensue with balmy
rays
Sprinkling poised
dew
Over tulip leaves
Cloyed in balmy
rays
Spanking in myriad
of greenery.
Humming
butterflies
Soak corneal drops
As if intoxicated
Trifling with wind
As wanton as
simmering clouds
Hypnotized and
mesmerized
In fancy.
In the paddy field
there
A boulder stands
For songs
Of those briskly
maids
Who are singing:
"Hopes
collide
With the ligament
of the sky
And then
fall."
Hovering Feathers
Slowly in the dawn
Some feathers fly
away
To an alien land
or
In the whirlpool
of space.
Hovering up and
down
As bright as a
little bird
They turn white or
yellow
And waltz over the
grassy clearing
Rebuffing with the
wind.
Perhaps in the next
dawn
Trifling sparrows
would nibble
Or briskly robins
would peck
Nobody knows for
sure
What is meted fate
to them.
What more
foxhounds or cats
May tear them to
pieces
Or splashing winds
will not spare.
In the carefree
glide in the sky
I sense these libertine
feathers
Hover around and
soar
Beyond sight and
mind.
BAMDEV SHARMA
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