Venery Poem by Pravat Kumar Mandal

Venery

Pravat Kumar Mandal

Mild thy hand on my head
Consoling not of mourns today.
No; soon the day will fade
And appear with a sparkling ray.

I'm gone back to that noon
A lonely house, a lonely bed
A lonely ill-timed moon
With the sound of the secret tread.

A restless commotion
I feel very close to thy breast.
At the final tension
I don't want to wait for the next.

Now thou art in my arms
There's no reason for social fear
For the old banal terms
We have been scared year after year.

11/10/2020