Sunday, September 10, 2017

All that you are

If you were a poem,
I'd add some strings
And play you through the night
Till the camp fire goes off.
If you were a song,
I'd add some steps
And dance till my legs ache
Until the song goes off.
But you are merely a few lines
With no song to hum, no step to match,
I could only write you
On the last pages of my notebook.

©Chandrajit Mitra