Fugitive Cloud


It’s been long since we talked to the cloud,
You asking me on its whereabouts,
I, in vain, started crying aloud,
Time and again, no trace, the mind, contracts.
 
Please! We beg thee to surface straight away,
And lessen the famine of psyche,
We know, for sure, you’ll call our waiting a day,
Stop being a raucous escapee.
 
Why not? You ‘can’ emerge out of the blue,
We, on earth, are beseeching for the least clue.
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allets's picture

racous escapees

The poet as lover and seeker communes with a moon that will show eventually if evoked politely - interesting writing - A


 

 

KingofWords's picture

Thanks!

Thank you very much indeed for such a wonderful comment.