Subrata Ray Poems

The trends of gorgons,
From Greek to Modern go on,
And desert hearts seek oasis,
The vital trance of Medusa’ kiss.
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Placid, lucid, shrine,
Reflects sublimated dumb,
As if the rays of liquid the sun runs.
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His Highness needs a room to seat,
Feels the Sun, and wishes to remake its fortune,
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The 3rd One's Hand In Love.

The stony hungry home,
Bereft of minion there,
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So many days have gone
The psychic link sustains
Few cloud-lets mirror the sun
And my poor being with blind eye
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The truth is the hardest nut to crack,
Cowards triumph over ego's lands,
While the wises in peace embark.
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You are citizen of word's province,
With a liaison of word-queen,
And get nourished with word' wine.
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She in her crescent blare,
Flashed as damasked May,
My wonder waiting eyes glimmered,
Beyond the visibility of a bay.
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Fallen in love? sounded a voice,
Where from? question came from noise.
From your heart, -I mean,
How! it is not seen.
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The secret-sacred would not remain secret,
Each day's growing love would bloom that sense,
In thousands readers and poets, it would be fragrance,
Your poems bear the glory of your love, and mine is share,
...