Those pavements hundreds of feet <br />Trampled every day, <br /> <br />My words softer than kiss <br />Lay there, some crosses the bay, <br /> <br />The prey screeches under the talons <br />Before beaked to death, <br /> <br />My verses are likewise <br />Bleeds and bleeds to a watery red, <br /> <br /> <br />Those green hycaniths on the bogs dance <br />My thoughts born there <br />And then drowns in a sublime laze.<br /><br />amitav mazumdar<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/to-my-dearest-verses/
