Drums

Someone’s joy is clear as a day
As a night dances on drumbeat.

At twelve of my night someone
Either weds or is just shrouded,

As Emily non-wife envelop poet
Would say of a woman’s wedded

Bliss, if it were indeed her bliss
Till shrouded in her due course.

We are living in age of spectacle.
Veil or shroud ,there is the drum

To beat on our midnight’s sleep
And a poem to celebrate a drum.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s