Epistolary Poem #237 Presented by Dr. Prasana Kumar Dalai of India
and Kristy Raines of The United States of America
MYTH OF THE NIGHT !
I ask noon if it has met anyone like you
I hunt for the face like yours all around
The buds haven’t found anyone like you
Florists aren’t sure of flowers like you
With that gait on heaven or the earth
The killing tresses, the lotus petal lips
Intoxicating eyes only myth of the night
The Google confirms ‘ur special status
Your uniqueness makes one really crazy
What should I call you, a Beauty or Bomb
If I may say so there is no poem like you .
©️®️Dr Prasana Kumar Dalai@India
Date.17 Monday February 2025.
She searches for the answer, and then speaks…
WHEN THE CLOCK STRIKES TWELVE!
Do not search for me in the Noon hour
for I will not be found there
Do not hunt for my face among blossoms
for I do not reside in the Spring flowers
I reside in the darkness under the Moon
when the sun disappears behind the mountains
My eyes and lips only appear in your restless dreams
where the earth ends and heaven begins
You ask what you should call me, “Beauty or Bomb?”
Beauty is found in the sunshine of daylight
But the Bomb is found in the midnight hour
Look for me when the clock strikes twelve.
- ©️®️KristyRaines@USA
