Poems by Shamik Banerjee
Day of The Squall
The heat-fraught land, received a squall
today, long and tired days after;
so ready plants turned with laughter,
on hearing drops that showered them all;
and, our joy-groomed eyes, did feel it-
with the hedge, the picket and hill;
the dunnock's tweet on wooden sill,
and a peafowl who, did reel it.
The squat logs which were dry and black
and slept below the ridgepole screen,
began to sing the song of green,
with pebbles on the dusty track.
Then half-bent stalks, uprose to sky
to chatter, which I could not hear,
but presumed it was of the cheer,
and end of their desperate sigh.
To A Sparrow
Weensy bird, from among your host,
come have you! And, on the cornice sat,
this daytime, when the light is most.
Did you sweep o'er a wide, distant plat?
Or, have you from a nearby tree,
like the shaping dawn when Sun is glee,
comb'd your breast then, flew and tost?
Are you clansmen of common wing,
placed in a cranny of man-made eave?
Or, in your flights of wandering,
peck the grains that men of houses leave,
then fly afterwhile; hove the brake
or the sleeping pond, rattle and shake
and do, uptill few chil'ren weave?
Here you are now. Beneath our shed,
feasting nips-- my mother serv'd you bread;
on bare fulfilment, raise your beak;
hop your claws and 'round the fencing peek!
Ah! sparrow friend. All a tittle!
Gay be your world, although so little.
What business, with your comrades cheep?
Chatter all day; at night, silence keep?
What colours, to your feather shade
that alongwith air, happily bend,
with so much freedom, upon a glade
without the fear— this flow to end?
What stipples you to form this joy;
like I had been as a merry boy?
About the Poet:
Shamik Banerjee is a poet and poetry reviewer from the North-Eastern belt of India. He loves taking long strolls and spending time with his family. His works have previously appeared in Slice O' Life Literary Magazine and Cresta Magazine. He has recently founded a poetry journal and aims to contribute immensely for poetry's future.