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Pradip Chattopadhyay

Veteran Poet - 3,206 Points (28.01.1961 / Kolkata)

Today's Diary


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!

Submitted: Monday, June 09, 2014
Edited: Monday, June 09, 2014

Topic of this poem: love


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  • Freshman - 1,924 Points Lorraine Colon (6/9/2014 6:52:00 PM)

    Sometimes we cannot take a break from our responsibilities - even during illness. But what is done with love is not a chore..... just an act of love, (Report) Reply

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