O Old Man (Just Past The Middle Age) , With The French-Cut Beards! (Meeting Him At The City Square) Poem by Bijay Kant Dubey

Sire, your French-cut beards
Though not from France,
But reared in an Indian saloon of that type
Is marvellous, excellent,
You step not forward hurriedly,
An old man you in the crowds of Kolkata,
But with the prominent white French-cut beard
On the chin
No less than an art-piece for me,
I shall miss you, sir.

Let me, let me see you in full,
A somewhat balding,
Brownish and fair,
May I ask you,
How did you come to nurture
The flair for,
I mean the fascination
For the French-cut beards
Even in your old age
And the gentleman just a bit
More than the middle age.

Not so old, but looking smart,
One of a shortish height,
But entertaining a French-cut beard
Going on the Calcuttan roads,
I saw him by chance
And liked him
And forgot not to capture
The image of his, the personality,
The photos of his
Not in my mind,
But in my heart.