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pradip-chattopadhyayPoems
On the deserted riverbank lay the painted boat his youth glistening in the half baked noon, the river wide beckoned him to taste her depth, skim her stretch and see her other side. The boat was raring to go riding the wide river's tide masts high up full steam to wherever she would carry him. At each call of the river his oars rended a soulful cry, the river echoed him back holding into her his futile longing her waves wreathing in agony on the shore if that could fetch him to her embrace. The half baked noon dull empty unchanging knew there wasn't a way he could ever launch into her.... the painted boat on the painted river!
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Jul 29, 2013
Jul 29, 2013 at 12:53 PM UTC
The Boat and the River
On the deserted riverbank lay the painted boat his youth glistening in the half baked noon, the river wide beckoned him to taste her depth, skim her stretch and see her other side. The boat was raring to go riding the wide river's tide masts high up full steam to wherever she would carry him. At each call of the river his oars rended a soulful cry, the river echoed him back holding into her his futile longing her waves wreathing in agony on the shore if that could fetch him to her embrace. The half baked noon dull empty unchanging knew there wasn't a way he could ever launch into her.... the painted boat on the painted river!
pradip-chattopadhyay
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pradip-chattopadhyay
Jul 29, 2013
Jul 29, 2013 at 12:53 PM UTC
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