I see the ripples in turbid streams
Seething beneath the umbrella-green.
Grins my mind in mellow sun-beam
Lilly beams.
My youthful umbrella-green..
Its mild tremor in afternoon-haze
Paints a skinny shiver of my daze
As its lousy abdomen boldly conceives
Swirling turbid of dusk and haze.
Like dreams passing by
Like grim cloud-lets floating sporadically
In somber gray sky.
As I drool over salted jujubes and taste the high..
And lone as a dying soldier,
My squeamish torso wistfully shivers,
The twilight breeze gently whispers
Kissing my kiddish lips that quiver.
The morning-sparrow-chirps soar high and high..
My visions keep slithering in somber gray sky..
Deep beneath, wails the turbid womb-
A cradle of lies..
Purple flies...
Baranagar Heritage Walk
5 years ago