DECEMBER  SUN

Burn my face further , O Sun without thinking of the dark pigments--

Suffering’s those silent ,  seething monuments--

Of burnt-out desires  demurely  kissed by a healing wind

That blows across the stacks of golden  paddy lying in field ,

Smacking of sweet sweat of farmers, not in a hurry the crops to bind ;

Wherein Earth smiles, amazed at the sight of its own happy yield

Where you promised before setting, to plant a kiss with lips too mild;

Before being swallowed by the fishes in shallow river water

Where million desires of Winter in body of water do glitter;

Sending  waves  of ecstasy thro’ every renewed cell

Singing songs  of new love in my village’s happy vale.

Comp. n copy right : saroj k. padhi

26/12/14