Of Words and Verse
With reason, not rhyme,
I do commit no crime.
Time flows, tides follow,
I rest in a cabined hollow.
Gravity binds me to earth,
only humor offers me mirth.
When I speak, you hear,
to words we all hold dear.
The horizon seeks a setting sun,
when all day's deeds are done.
The horizon vanishes in the dark,
We find our bodies a spot to park.
When I dream, I perceive,
When you peek, you receive.
There is no gravity,
no room for brevity.
Tides wish, time watches,
Doors no longer have latches.
With rhyme, not reason,
I commit poetic treason.
Copyright © Arnab Mitra | Year Posted 2013
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