The Revival of Porphyria’s lover

 

 

The dourly draft in the winter

In a dim diurnal, it thunder

Busted the leaves which frazzled by light,

On the nettle pond, on the barren sight

When beeline in porphyria’s straight,

She stops the breeze by closing the gate,

Warmth the room, by blowing the fireplace

With room got snugly, she removes the shawl,

When Beanie down, hair splash like waterfall.

She sat near me with open hair,

Touching my arms without any fear;

She allow me to lie on her white smooth shoulder,

And give her all, when clouds get thunder

Croon with love, in my ear,

To show her feeling, without any fear;

With passion of love, she moves around,

I hold her with torrid heart, as no one around;

In a bit of time, thought came in mind

How this girl will always mine;

Who praise me, from bottom of her Heart

With whom I can never be apart;

I tightened her neck with three strings

Because of that she can never sing

Certainly she feels no pain,

As I hug her, tightly again

I open the lead, from her neck,

Kissed the blushed lady, to keep a check,

Bluish eyes and golden hair have seen

Made me Jaunty, as I fulfill her keen

She lies on my lap, all the night

As I didn’t heard a word, from God almight.

 

Hi all! this is the remake of the original poem “Porphyria’s Lover” by Robert Browning

 

 

 

The Rose & the Nightingale

 

It was a sweet summer, with shining raindrops,

The streets were Barron, without any mobs;

In this season of love, came upon the nightingale;

In a garden ravishly holding, drops on flower like spangle.

 

The nightingale came flying, from far off lands,

Had traveled through mountain, river and sand;

The bird felt very tired, so rested on a tree,

Sang a melodious song, which spell bound everybody;

Every leap applauded the song, as did every flower,

The praised inspirer she bird and she sang with all her power;

 

In the midst of these there was a white rose,

That it was prettiest of all, everybody supposed;

The nightingale opened its eyes after the song,

And saw the white rose among the throng;

In the first sight the cupid struck

The nightingale saw the beauty dumbstruck;

The love bitten Nightingale, went to the rose,

Holding true love in her heart, to him she proposed;

 

The Rose in his pale pride and arrogance,

Did not head to the bird’s plight;

Instead told the bird that he’ll love her,

When from the dull he will become the reddish bright.

 

She looked to the rose with the tearful eyes,

And with a single surmounting painful sighs,

Embraced the flower hurriedly, tearing the her body with the spikes & winning the bet,

As everybody saw the blood oozing out from nightingale body, that had made the flower red.

 

The rose saw the pure & unselfish affection of the bird, & cried like he has gone mad,

As the bird has filled his heart with love, but in frank of him, on ground, she lay dead.

 

Every passing day, the rose cried of this woeful crime,

And never let anybody touch him in all his life time;

This is just not heart wrenching story, but an eternal love tale,

Of the white rose and his beloved, the Nightingale.

” The Miss Caller “

When all the time I am sitting alone,

I do the things which people don’t,

That’s the scene that happened that night,

When i was seeing the God all might.

 

Suddenly a call flashed on mobile

And I thought, is it true or lie,

The call is from a unknown number,

Seeing that, I wondered.

 

Who gave me the miss call in the night?

On the fine day of valentine,

The no. sounds me like a rhyme,

It end at seven & start from nine.

 

Suddenly a thought came to my mind,

I gave the miss call at number nine.

Again the caller called me back,

Without hesitation I picked it back

.

The voice I heard was very fine,

Which gave me the pleasure of sweet & wine.

Oh! she sounded me like an angel,

Voice of her made my heart tangle.

 

She spoke endlessly to her friend,

Without knowing who’s at the other end.

At last she stopped at one stanza,

Asking me,” Are you Miss Mriganza”?

 

She understood the person was not her choice,

As she heard my bold voice.

She dropped the link in this game,

Before i should ask “What is your name”?

 

Waiting for the call I can’t sleep that night,

Thats the scene that happened on the 14th night

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