P.C. Koushik Sarkar
There was a poetry who wanted to bloom,
And waited for that perfect moment,
When variegated shades kissed the wind,
Characters bloomed in happy love.
The poetry discovered a rhyme,
When the foliage gathered the exuberant hues,
A whiff of breeze caressed the grass,
Words broke the cold glacier.
The poetry grew in the unheard hues,
A mystery veiled the rhyme,
Woven some stolen glances,
the ripples of winds drew words of an unknown story.
The poetry grew in the fall colors,
My words losing in a delirium,
Breathing in a sweet intoxication of the ethereal colors,
The poetry wants to write again !!