Sonnet of Homecoming

"Home again..." said the bard, or was it Home ?
Beyond those hills, streams, seas and deserts dry
Distant lands of peace and of maidens shy
Of wars, songs and dreams, how long must he roam
Seeking times gone, to find his long lost Home ?
Look, yonder looms his Home, where those clouds weep
Just on the horizon, where those winds sweep
So near yet so far, other end of sky's dome

Sore is his heart and blistered are his feet
Feeble his wishes are, his Homecoming uncertain
In a tavern with wenchs warm he makes his last sojourn
Singing glories of things unknown and Homecoming sweet

There he walks barefoot smeared with sins and lust
And his sweet little lies of rains on paths of dust

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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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