The Man, With a Pen
The man, with a pen in the pocket of his
suit of yesterday and today, that has chosen a place
in a rocky shoreline, sits contently, waiting
for the orb to settle down a smile from which words
of mystic sea whirl, enjoying the summer wind.
The man, with a pen in the pocket of his
suit of yesterday and today, feels rejuvenated
from the touch
of those lips, etched in a photograph. Ah, memories
good or bad, are always permanent!
The mountains and the seas tilt nigher
to the orb, who has selflessly warmed him with
eyes blinking from heaven to earth
and has felt the gentle ripples of tares and the whir
of transient birds gliding, in jovial mood, in the air.
The orb declaims a lovely poem, while endless sky
guesses if it should please his aged mind and a pen adhering
to a note pad. A man, with a pen in the pocket of his suit
of yesterday and today, that will
boredom less enjoy the evening graces whilst she’s away.
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