The Girl On The No Man's Land. Poem by Subrata Ray

The Girl On The No Man's Land.

Piquant mixture of sense and nonsense,
With grave and prudent frivolity she stands,
Ships from different lands she receives,
Who knows whom she favors whom bans.

Hers is not a toad's cave of couple-compromise,
The lust of rising day in night's paradise.
The chaffy crops of same -sailed rails,
And the rubbing juice of spring, autumn and winter,
Find her no prey, as the tiny hungry hunter.

Wistful wealth for lotus eaters, she fosters,
And the haggard and broken wings come by,
In her perennial dismay -doleful despair hangs,
Whoever tastes her pleasure, forgets all ranks.

The deserted deserts may find in her a home,
A home above time with bubbling azure,
Ah! She is ever transient but always secured.

Some gypsy-climbs of frustrated goals,
Return not with wafted feather,
The scheming bothering of insipid lanes,
In her no man's land forget for ever.