MADE OF LOVE : SONNET 44

Life is design'd to live in anything
Or all things at a time -- with love of course --
In lives, non-lives, things we feel or feel nothing,
If there is soul of God in universe.
There is no life wherein love not resides --
Be it love for what transcends the mortal limit,
Or like blossoms on a love-knot, briefly abides --
There's love always as natural legit.
But life possess'd with love for one and the same
Is prisoning the self in a far-off isle
That nourishes the life till fall of the frame,
Or proves too strange for self to stand the exile.
Yet love is love as sacredness of soul;
Lovable are all -- from a grain to the Whole.

-- N. P. SAMAL

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The Bathroom Singer Sonnet 176 From the bathroom comes the voice and plays Around in many a number, gently touching Each lucky soul -- from youth to elder age -- With its enchanting notes of love and longing... But the singer wishes for no credit; No listeners he does think to entertain, But him, alone, alone to suck each beat, Each tone, each pitch, each rhythm, each refrain, As the showery bathroom's walls replay His romantic, lovey-dovey numbers In the quiet hours each morn, each day In his cube-size happy universe... I doubt the man's self-entertaining soul If to amuse him, he has none in the Whole. ©️ N P Samal

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