AN ALLEGORY OF MONSOONS

⁯Monsoons bring coolness
And pain
Wakes the poet inside you
Takes you back
To the days of yore
You live as a child
And the raindrops pour...

Monsoons bring pleasure
And fun
Closes your school
You run and run
Along the fields
Raindrops splashing upon your face
Wet soil soaks
More and more drops
Smell of earth puffs and puffs...
The farmer yokes his oxen
Sings the ballad of earthen men
You do not go home
A happiness and peace
You were craving for
Fills your heart...
You tear your notes
Float paper boats...
Monsoon makes them sink
Yet you never do think
You make more and more
Till your heart gets sore
And the raindrops pour...

Monsoons bring happiness
And death...
You sleep on grassy fields
Facing the cloudy skies
And rains wash your eyes...
You see diamonds falling
Pearls dashing down leaves
You remember grannie's fables...
And you close your eyes...⁮

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Dr. S.N, Mohanty :: Principal, B.J.B. Junior College

SONNET 24

Those sleepy shy dusks when perch on the cloudy sky And hue of setting Sun reddens those clouds in west The nomad tired bird then returns to his nest Bringing silent tear drops to your eyes, once gone dry And thunders make you guess that the heavens're set to cry. The dreams that you had lost then seem like broken glass As those rainy winds sweep by o'er the swaying grass Like an insane wish to weep... An insane wish to die. Dusky rains embrace soft earth steaming with each splash Wet soil's fragrance fills the sky with wind's sedate pace The coolness sooths your heart, yet warm tears wash your face And lost in lurid dreams your latent longings lash As slowly fragrance fades, those lonely midnights mourn You reminisce, sob and seek monsoon's short sojourn...

Trystic

Ages of sombre slumber Preserves thy soul not From the sabre o' desire "Far from the folk they meet in the dusk of a shrewd spring glorying in tales of lust trystic ballads they sing " Divine inert eternity rewards thou not warmth of profane audacity " Their willowy hands are wrapped A tale of nails and lips Those softest unkempt grass Serve for the trystic sleeps " O' poet, pretend not and sing Of this tryst of springs Of those small profane things " ... Narrow eyes of heavens then flash Fear grips like a venomous sting promising return they part still trystic ballads they sing... " When those springs are gone On our tryst's doom A sombre monsoon's dusk, some profane buds then bloom... NOTES: In this poem first, third and fifth verses are related to each other and second, forth and sixth ones are related to each other. The last verse is a standalone one. First group of verses convey my thoughts on the imagery that is described through...

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