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Shanthosh Suganthan Poems
Peacock, thee present of God Ravishing radiant colours Are the designs of your feathers, Carvings from Van Gogh?
White crystals dropp gently Father Christmas's holy month A season called winter
Bats, the lord of the night Gives anyone a fright It is a night spy But really why?
7 o'clock The man is awaken By the sound of happy children A respite in human heaven
A pale blue dot caught in a beam of light A palace of ravishing greenery A harmonious symphony of life A perpetual puzzle of land and sea
Comments about Shanthosh Suganthan
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
(26 April 1564 - 23 April 1616)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
(31 May 1819 - 26 March 1892)
(31 October 1795 – 23 February 1821)
Peacock, thee present of God
Ravishing radiant colours
Are the designs of your feathers,
Carvings from Van Gogh?
Its tail opens the gateway
To the heavens above
Are you peacock
The heavenly inscriptions of Jesus?
Peacock, you are so magnificent, so beautiful
That even the Egyptian Sphinx fell ashamed
You own thee rightful title
Of thee greatest present to man
I see fireworks dancing above the ground
No, it is just you opening your tails
But who is the magnificent maker
Of this bewildering bird
Is it a creation of the grand?