Sonnet On Bengal (2) Poem by Santanu Banerjee

In Bengal's heart, a village sleeps serene,
Where dawn's soft fingers brush the fields with gold,
The river hums a tune, a whispered sheen,
Through verdant groves, where banyan roots grow bold.

The cuckoo's call, a song that fills the sky,
While winds weave whispers through the swaying rice,
The palm trees dance beneath the azure high,
And fragrant flowers blossom in a trice.

The oxen plod, their hooves a steady beat,
Through muddy lanes, where barefoot children play,
The sunset sets the sky in hues complete,
As twilight wraps the earth in soft decay.

Oh Bengal's village, beauty pure, untold,
In every breath, a tale of life unfolds.