Lychee blackberry of sweetest variety
Shouts the vendor
They look juicily nice
But when I ask the price
Find it too high.
Why them forgone
Summer's yields live short
I lay my hand on one
They are money's worth.
And I think of my place
In next year's summer days
What if I vacate this space
Nothing forever stays.
Pradip Chattopadhyay's Other Poems
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Comments about this poem (Nectarous by Pradip Chattopadhyay )
The Road Not Taken
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Still I Rise
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William Ernest Henley
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