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Your flaw endears Dear more than irks
No one nor you, me love, be free from flaws,
A flaw endears more than it ever irks,
It sounds strange, dimple a dire flaw ere was,
Life comes alive with foibles, whims and quirks.
A mortal life and faultless? Holy Grail,
A perfect head and heart in faultless flesh,
Is not it too much of an obscure tale?
Perfection’s a pathless pursuit, no dash.
If a thing of art has to be alive,
Forget the fault of faultless offering,
Whence ye think a ray of light would arrive
If there's no crack nor yet an opening?
I love you dear nigh just as ye have been,
A-perfect-you makes you nigh but machine.
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Sonnet | 07.08.2018 | beauty, perfection
Poet’s note: Imagine a couple in conjugal bed and discussing. The lady seems too keen to have a word from her husband describing her as one with no flaw. The man tries to bring home the point that a thing of beauty is always alive like Nature, and yet cannot be perfect like say a machine-made art. Nature is beautiful despite its subtle imperfections.
Copyright ©
Aniruddha Pathak
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