The Missing Poets

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
All the poets have disappeared
Behind the glistening glass buildings-
Making brochures
Of rare beauty.
 
Beyond the hills and the lakes,
Beyond the daffodil farms,
Some say, minstrels still sing
Ballads of heroes
Who fought for love,
And of heroines
Who priced their honor
Above their lives.
 
But that is not true.
 
Beyond the fields and the hills
Are the resorts
Where the waiters wait,
Upon the tables,
And think, vaguely,
Of the ballads they had heard
Long ago, in their childhood.
 
***
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About Abhishek

I will let the blog speak for itself...or, at times, for me. View all posts by Abhishek

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