Concerns Of Mysterious Love
Love is a mystery
Across the lands you inhabit.
But you draw sketches beautiful ever.
Love is a paradox
Alien to many but perhaps a dream for you
And its woes still form rainbows in your poems.
Cleopatra was a fairy with infectious charm
Who bewitched many a man
And she brought disgrace to the fairer sex.
John Keats had a Fanny Browne
Who left him dry and lone
When consumption struck him for a while.
Shelly seduced many, fell in love with two
But ran away with another!
A habitual user was he indeed!
There is a joke cracked...
There were many traumatised victims of love
Whom Sigmund Froid once treated
At his mental clinic......
There in one ward you could see a sad man with long beard
Who was once in deep love with an eve of 'infinite traits'!
But his lady love, alas! had rejected him later
And she had been wedded to another!
It was a supreme case of true love
That made him mad and a client of Froid.
He was struggling to recover,
His Venus was gone!
In the neighbouring ward you could see another man
His beard was longer and his face paler.
Who was he? Do you know?
He was the very man whom the Venus above
Had wed for a life time deception!
Again and again thorns seemingly tell you,
' Thou, come not near'.
But you go to pluck the flower!
Again and again seemingly the petals whisper unto you,
' Thou art finished'.
Where is love?
That immaculate flower of beauty?
Does it still grow on the tombs of
Romeo and Juliet or Salim and Anarkali?
Let your sketches be drawn...
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poem by M.d Dinesh Nair
Added by Poetry Lover
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