Villagers carry grains and straw,
Golden oriole among green leaves,
A stir in water of the pond -
In sky's colour for a moment
Marigold's many petal layers.
All mine.
Deceived by dividing scratches
Raw red from many caustic blades
crisscrossing over th' Absolute.
Segragated ones now belong
To me for I belong to them.
( This poem is from my book One Hundred Poems)
Sunday, May 25, 2008
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5 comments:
I really liked this! iF YOU DON'T MIND, i'LL AD YOU ON MY LIST ON MY BLOG.
yOU WROTE A BOOK? i DID AS WELL. :)
(I just saw that I hit the lock key -- too lazy to re-type. :)
I am glad you posted this in your blog. Why not post some more?
Hi Andrew, sure you can add me to your list.( but I am an irregular blogger.)
Good one. you have painted the village scenes in this poem in ur own style and expression.
Pretty effective data, thanks so much for your article.
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