The Third Man's Hand In Love. Poem by Subrata Ray

The 3rd One's Hand In Love.

The stony hungry home,
Bereft of minion there,
In irons with a swine,
The approved cave whines.

The wistful zeal, dreams,
Rolling play of waves,
From lonely, lonely cave,
And the eyes fly to the stars,
For an ancient alchemy’s touch.

The unsaid, unfathomed, colossal impossible,
Teases tinged breezes of hope peeped blossoms,
And she, like a blue be, shakes off stony- home.