In a dark room,
Through heavy tapestry sunlight bloom.
Daughter, wife and husband,
Lonesome, baffled and stressed,
Laying on the hard pressed bed,
Staring at the running stars, with eyes red.
A pair of doves in the room,
Making love, unaware of the world’s doom,
Silently, stealthily,
Stole from their beds, sheepishly,
With heavy steps, moved to a mysterious lane,
Where men and women come and go, to tame.
Page 3 sportive people inhabit here,
Leave their doors ajar, there.
Eking out for social liberation,
Exposing them, for worlds’ hibernation.
Rubbing cheek to cheek and breast to breast,
Like two pigeons in one nest,
Crushing golden head by golden head,
Tasted the juice of forbidden fruit, red,
A storm, all calm and passion spent.
All returned with aching dent,
Pair of doves still making love, without vent,
Family was a multicultural liberated jaunt.
From:
DR. Yogesh SHARMA
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem