Skip to main content

LOVE AT 50 : SONNET 3

No strange when love captivates you at fifty
Where the beloved is none else than a lass
With chanting voice, magical eyes, rare beauty 
And body Apsaras can't match en masse.
Some strange the lass' latching onto you fast
And loving you if none else does exist 
On earth. So is for you -- yours flying full mast,
Even death for her finding hard to resist.
But all strange when your love is never sexual
By any virtues that bind you together
At peace -- with her head on your pectoral
Or your head at rest on the feet of her...
Thus, sacred navigates the love strong blood;
The ageless goddess and the ageing god.

-- N P SAMAL

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

KISS ME, PLEASE!

Woo-hoo...! Kisss you...u...u...u...??? Oh, I'm being frenzical !!! My slavering tongue is jerking fast And my quivering lips are pouting out With booms of kisses in the air -- Ummah...! Ummah...! Ummah...! Just yesterday, an okay got my promise. Today is the chance no way to miss. And ready is my basket with pecks, Lip-locks, French kisses, and other varieties... I'm also ready for the lizard kiss, And the kiss of the Spider man... And I'm sure I won't beg like Big B  -- (Juma, chumma de de chumma...), This is my right to kiss I earn'd this week. I shall kiss like one Dhoom 2's Hritthik-Aash's, Although I envy Emraan's 'Murderous' thriller kiss... I'm ready with my balmy lips, Strawberry flavour'd,  To be the biggest smoocher  Of do hazaar chhabees... And I have hidden the cracks  On my wintry lips  To save from rashes My Valentine's softy cheeks... Well with flushed up teeth, With cleaned up tongue, With exotic ...
5 comments
Read more

THE CHILDREN OF GAZA

                 The Children Of Gaza                               A Blank Verse Thundering in the sky, then rain of missiles... See how they are fleeing arms outstretched  Like the broken wings of storm-hit birds, And see their faces white with fear and hunger And hear their throbbing voice of pain and loss... Over their head, the sky's no kites, no clouds, But fire and fire amidst engulfing smoke, And they are running like the Napalm girl  From Vietnam or standing frozen, like The standing boy from Nagasaki, before Their elders who are whispering in fear Or staring helpless in the gauge of Death... They are the hapless children caught in the war zone. They have no home, no school, no ground of freedom, But sole refugee camps and hospitals  If marching death has spared them of their life. They hear not bedtime tales but sirens of death.  For them,...
Post a Comment
Read more

THE RETURN : RHYME 100

                    The Return                                   Rhyme 100 Infants gambol about their home With blooms and toys, But they return to mom's bosom For the real joys. Children frolic about the streams, In meads and hedges, But to their home they return for Their real flowerage. Youths do rush about crazy for World's whole treasure, But they return for real living To own life and career.  Adults get sunk into the labour With dedication, But this's the return to raise well Their own children.  The old trudge about the yard Of their nursing shed, But lastly they return for rest To their death bed. ©️ N P Samal 
1 comment
Read more