there lie many a rungs of colors <br />the ascension yet onto the moon <br />on the strands of love blustering <br />clouds when all around intoning blue <br /> <br />flower blooms from the bud as the law <br />fragrance diffuses into the air betiding <br />tunes flow on the rune of passion <br />at times storm inevitable on the milieu <br />in its own way clock when stays back <br /> <br />the strong wind thrusts on lazing tears <br />cuckoo no more sings the song of autumn <br />rumpus lays its icy hand by the mystery <br />rumpling the gloss into a rigid frame of fire <br /> <br />tide loses its dream from the core of desire <br />as the web of sands redoubts the splash <br />vale of tunes seems to be rocked up <br />the lightening splashes the fire in eyes <br /> <br />legion’s street at criss-cross rucks up <br />i simply speechless behold the stream <br />meandering rueful across the snowfall <br />in furrows of love and hate yet undespised<br /><br />Dr subhendu kar<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/a-story-untold-yet/
