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The old mill, Sudbury
| Open Poetry #43 |
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The old mill, Sudbury |
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poddarku Senior Member
since 2008-01-15
Posts 589india 
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The old mill, Sudbury Tired as he is, he will go on. The destination is coming nearer each time he defies his fatigue. Aching feet tells to take a bit of time beside the path, under that summerful tree and dream of his home, his own old mill at Sudbury. His travels through distant corners has gifted him exotic colors in his dreams. He can see the soft grass about his house. The sound of red wheel pumping water echoes. Fruits have been processed, preserved and labeled. A slumber has returned to its nest, in the eyes of his mother. He can see the mother’s hand printed china and flowers brought by neighborhood girl. Tired as he is he can dream a thousand shades on those petals. A bird is calling. This side of consciousness or the other? He wonders and still dreams. The old mill, Sudbury, his own home or is it just a painting! clever talks delay friendship! |
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| © Copyright 2008 poddar kushal - All Rights Reserved | |||
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Margherita Member Seraphic
since 2003-02-08
Posts 22236Eternity |
quote: Ohhh, dear Ku! It is spellbinding in its beauty. Love, Margherita  |
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poddarku Senior Member
since 2008-01-15
Posts 589india |
thank you my friend |
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Marchmadness Member Rara Avis
since 2007-09-16
Posts 9271So. El Monte, California |
An almost fantasy like beauty here, Ku. Ida |
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OwlSA Member Rara Avis
since 2005-11-07
Posts 9347Durban, South Africa |
This is very, very beautiful. Your horse poem (The Sunchasers) will always be my favourite, but this comes a very close second in my opinion. In spite of the fatigue, the aching feet, the implied age and possible approaching death, I envy him for the sight of the mother's hands and eyes. The dream-like quality of the memories/dreams/painting flows so beautifully into each other that I couldn't help but read this over several times, pausing on each direct or implied image/ sound/ smell/ flavour/ touch to inhale its ambiance oh so slowly into every corner of the bronchioli in my lungs and savour it before I exhale very slowly in order to inhale the next. - Owl |
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