The Great Bard Poem by ANJANDEV ROY

The sun is shining brightly in the pleasant morning
And the gentle breeze is blowing,
This is indeed the wonderful time,
Sitting cozily in my armchair,
I am reading some immortal works of the great Bard,
I am infinitely delighted as I go into the depth of his great deeds
And I remain spellbound in amazement.
With the pleasant and sublime spirit,
I wonder and wonder what to write about the great Bard's skill;
How shall I explain his talent?
With all the heaps of praises and laurels that I know, we know and the dictionary knows,
I try my best to delineate his divine skill,
But I find myself not efficient enough to do it;
Even I delve into the another world to get some prolific words in order to adore and elucidate the great poet perfectly,
Still I remain unsaturated to depict his profound skill.
Finally, I give up, reluctantly though,
And with all the frustrated and agonizing mind,
I blame myself for my failure;
The pleasant time of the day becomes truly unpleasant,
Indifferently, I begin to turn the pages of the great Bard's fabulous work,
Then the wise man comes with his prolific knowledge and wisdom to soothe my harrowing heart;
He firmly says it is impossible to describe justly the unfathomable talent of the great artist by an earthly man,
I understand his words in my heart,
We all know the great Bard,
He is of all ages,
He is the Bard of Avon, the unparalleled genius of English literature.