Dream Of Love Poem by Procyon Mukherjee

The Allegro slowly turns

In a windy caress, as if the White muslin,

wound around the waist,

Draws from the depth of mystery



The next note is stopping

Askance, the bar is lost

in the cadenza of a rolling agony

The wait must end



Between the variations and tempo

The song rises in hope

The mutiny must have been lost

In one single sacrifice



The last notes are sad reminders

Waiting expectantly, unsure

In duty or neglect

The ideal rested, unconditional