Keep these verbs
you may require them
to bend a steel of wrath-
sharp weapons from behind
grow flashy: into wounds
they strike certainty of destruction.
Be sure, that I may not come-
not even my surreal shadows
from this portion
of your soft yellow light.
These nouns that once
acted hopefully
like a complacent boatman
to steer our way of love-
floated us down in the divine stream-
washed our nights and days,
our burning suns and cloyed moons-
with surfs and salts of life,
see whirl of doom.
When you prefer to run down north
south must be left behind-
and fade unknown...
when brooding flowers
will fill your hands
trees'll gape empty
and suffer neglect of our eyes...
Love the rhyme and vision of north,
keep the flowers' hues on your eyes-
but before that
you have to prove others futile-
Take these verbs,
those throttling nouns
to mend your weapon speech
They will perish your old choices
under new sun.
Be rife with arguments
like old Roman friend, Brutus.
Rites Ghosh
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/verbs-and-nouns-of-love/
