She is too ill today
Not a day to feel poetic
Virus laid fever's prey
Pray work the antibiotic.
Her eyes today in weakness closed
Her head sunk in pillow
Verses are dry in a mind morose
Pains her face in fever's glow.
At six o'clock I whispered to her
Time for the antibiotic
She saw me in a hazed blur
Not a word she could speak.
Teatime came she didn't get up
I still made it for two
In trembling hand she held the cup
She couldn't refuse my brew.
Gnaws me despair when she's ill
Still a novice at basic kitchen work
Never learned the skill to make the day's meal
Where are things I grope in the dark.
She says feels no good to lie down like this
My fever is gone with the sweat
I know for anything she would ever miss
Seeing me off at the gate!
Pradip Chattopadhyay's Other Poems
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Comments about this poem (Today's Diary by Pradip Chattopadhyay )
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Still I Rise
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
William Ernest Henley
Did you read them?
- I cant see you but I know you there, yolandey breedt
- Like an old-fashioned tradition, Kamini Arichandran
- Where are we?, Pintu Mahakul
- Gazing up the sky, Seira LNlee94
- no one has ever done good without....., RIC S. BASTASA
- the night deepens, RIC S. BASTASA
- to begin with....., RIC S. BASTASA
- who is someone in your mind?, RIC S. BASTASA
- try sipping this, RIC S. BASTASA
- the reason why i am still a part of you, RIC S. BASTASA