A Love For A Drop Of Ink Poem by Paramananda Mahanta

A Love for a drop of ink

She denies me with her passive eyes,
But touches me in her each single ply.
She rubs me to peace on the thorns of ruins,
In the rosy beds of the soul-touching lines.
I know her establishes for a drop of ink,
Where my heart sticks for leisurely sinks.
Even for some stern words and denial lines,
She lays a garden of hearts as a divine shrine.

On finding her taunting and heartful pulling.
I missed my thoughts with beautiful spelling.
Reclaim the quarry of distress with her words,
Someone untouched in the flow must be utterly mad.
It sets the Charter of beauty and woes with wit,
All love lynched lines tie stories of joy or grief.

Copyright 2020
Paramananda Mahanta
All rights reserved