Fayaz Bhat Poet Free verse

Nice To Meet You

I had heard of Black-
beauty
From highly learned 
men
And, a twiggy oily 
figure!
I have always 
appreciated.
City-women walk in 
style
Wear stylish and 
talk in style,
A Cow-boy shall 
always commend!
But I have 
somewhere read,
An Indian American 
poet to his
Syrian wife wrote
An unknown love 
poem!
Blaming her of 
dating once
A Muslim friend.
Therefore ere we 
may walk together 
any more,
Tell me, for instance!
Have you visited 
that saint’s shrine?
There, near your 
abode,
The fort’s on the 
Rocky Mount;
Climbed those 
hundred-fifty stony 
stairs?
                                     Yes!
Many many times, in 
that sweet nonage
With grandma.
And nowadays on 
almost all Sundays
In the evenings, with 
my mom.

Ah! Ah!
Then you must have
 Fed the wild-
pigeons’ flock, corn;
Helped the lame, 
blind beggars with 
coins, and rice;
In the festivals’ 
nights
Served the waking 
worshipers—coming 
from the far villages 
in country,
Fried in ghee, the 
rice,
And in Samovar—
Kahva!

Yes, my dear Yes!
I have, I have, I 
have.

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