The Night-time's Fable

Photography: 'Underneath Your Bright Light', Ellen Clifford

We follow the track of eve and gather,

to reach the sleepful noon of night;

there we speak-- near-- together--

thro a covertly passing light.

This light-- its knowledge-- no one knows,

that we find at our inner link;

where arc lamp of the blue moon glows,

an environ-- old passion's brink!

To Thee, a fable, my heart demands,

so rest to my eyelids can come;

a light indulgence of Thy hands

on my head-uneased and wearisome.

With fine descriptions, I need'nt must

or urge Thy mind to fresh invent;

I assort good with olden trust

and lyrics before my birth year spent.

So voice a tale in sweet narration

of great heroic pride and rank;

or sing an anthem of devotion—

long garnered in thy childhood's bank.

O' share can'st Thou, what most adore:

of great events, stories and wars;

a journey to an unpent door;

an escapade to rings and stars.

O' tell but-- all Thou know'st, me tell

and expand the bound of this nightfall;

so Thou and I can fore'er dwell,

'till sunbirds from their havens call.

So tell me-- all Thou learn'st-- tell me-

before night's coolness, dies at day;

before Thine eyebrows' pleat for Thee

and collude us to part away.

About The Author:

Shamik Banerjee is a poet and poetry reviewer from the North-Eastern belt of India. He loves taking long strolls and spending time with his family. His deep affection with solitude and poetry provides him happiness.