All Roads Not To Rome
Maharaja Chandnu in the Mahabharat,
To win his belated love battle
Over his beloved, a fisherman’s blonde,
Had with him four armours:
Bhismar as his son, himself a widower,
The woman still a spinster
And she not from a formidable clan.
None of these are my arms,
With which I wage for her a battle
That might turn futile.
Does a bud unfurl
on the certainty of its fertility?
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Added by Poetry Lover
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