To Wait For Love That Blossoms Late Poem by Aniruddha Pathak

Like fishing hook missing the bait
Destiny seems without a date,
Or fortune hailed with a closed gate,
A flower blooming far too late,
A stud too shy with mares to mate,
A shooter that cannot shoot straight,
Like waiters that order-less wait
On bare tables and waiting plate!
One is born to greet unknown fate
At an unknown, unopened gate
With a well-come smile too sedate
I pry unto fate's eyes with hate.
So I wait love to be in spate—
In hope, it's spring that blossoms late.
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Sonnets | 01.03.04 |