Her Greatness, -The Grand Arpita. Poem by Subrata Ray

He held the lady in his head,
Never drag her as disk in the bed,
Kept her aloof in heart’s shade.

He wished to do the impossible,
As does a devotee in his tale,
Weaving garland of unconscious fable.

For she, he knew was a seven ocean’s surge,
No action she feels with thousand rivers merge,
Hers is an abstract tsunami in every barge.

Her presence tinges the calm weather,
Her smile willows the spirit afar,
Her voice stimulates the desert –water.