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WISH AGAIN
O My
Would be daughter
This father of yours wrote
throughout his life
and for whom
you will be book
a gracious book of poems.
Nothing is dearer
than my book of poems
your mom
is like a hard-bound book
under which
I was bound too
unconciously and without
which, I would have been
seattered some day.
To greet your coming
I wish, I write a book
which you see at first
I wish again
you play
with the coloured pix
and when you start eating
My wish will be
let your first bite
be of these pages
imprinting as
the reminiscence of dedication.
For, when I pay the
debt of nature
only books remain
in which I lived
and only longed to be
a book
enchanting, charming
and noble one.
FOR THE DIGNITY
Oft anon, I sit whith you
on the bench off the road
which leads to `Victoria'.
The habit grows, and I find
addication too.
Right on the moment, women
sitting on the soft grass
become a market
seeking buyer for their own.
We both have seen and
known it too.
And now onward, you
long to shum the place
As
a Women's market
stands before you.
And I behold
in the market
you and you alone.
Lo! the irony
A market needs a women
for
negating the woman
as a merchandise
And for the dignity
of woman-hood.
A MUSIC
I know
that a music
which is played no where
and you
listen too
like I do
Not informing me
Yet
the secret news continue
besides these words
we have uttered once.
KNOW ME WELL
Some day
you smell
with my nose
Roses
Mogra
Marygold
and to yourself
Touch
with my hands
your book of poems
the book you
presented me first
Murmur
be my lips
your own name
the 1st one
second
and the third
And do wait
through my ears
the voice of your footsteps
Thereafter I shall be sure
you have known me
known be well.
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