On most day breaks I sat alone,
on a promontory sea side,
A bell is ringing from an old temple,
Lone bird chilling in the misty morning,
In the shallows men envied the waves,
kissing those tinkling anklets,
Acres of clothes hunched down,
slapping on the sandstone slabs,
Squalid bazaar rising in the dawn,
Tea shops filling with men on move,
I skirted the edge of the field,
Watched buffaloes touching the earth,
Voluminous panted boys played cricket,
runs made the cats and dogs run…
Girls lounged in mystic veils,
Eyes met and wickets fell,
Women carried water on dusky road,
Men herded goats on the sandy shore,
Mules loaded and plodded,
on the market road…
I walked along the bridge,
and sat on the crumbling wall
Deep down I watched the mourners,
it was the last ritual,
In an enchanted hour…,
in rubble and ruins I returned…
Destiny Poets
Uniting and celebrating the best "Writers" and "Poetry" from around the world centred out of Destiny Church Wakefield
A perfectly good poem has ,for the casual reader been burdened with avoidable distractions :-
Minor Editorial Note :- What is the significance of the exclamation marks ? I counted twelve of them ….
Thank you for pointing that out, Sir and edited. Also appreciate your comments about the poem.