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Flower

I just want to be a wildfower
with unknown fragrance
free to bloom or grow
anywhere around.
Albeit, it is proper to bloom
as a redolent rose,
with colours perfect enough
to steal hearts
with perfectly shaped petals
and well-versed hands
to be taken care of.
But, you will always know
people are either
forgetful or deceitful.
And then you perceive,
it is better to grow
as a wildflower.
As blizzard blows upon you
you will still bloom
with your inner strength
amidst all the cacophony
that lays around you.

- Sharmistha Mitra Sengupta.

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Quintessential Ambrosia
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Bewitched I was,
the way you laid your placid glance on me.
Au fait I was,
I'll be weaving words into delightful poetries
till the shimmering iris of mine
be caped with the bleakness Niah can hold.
Au fait I was,
you are that enchanting orb,
I can never return from.
And so, I bestowed
all my fervours to paint
the pristine canvas of our fate
with name of yours,
as long as you be engraved betwixt my ribs.
Au fait I was,
you are that mote of cosmos,
abstruse to the world around us,
but a quintessential ambrosia called love.

- Sharmistha Mitra Sengupta

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Canvas of life

Life taught me that emotions are
plethora of strokes by Destiny,
where bluish-black agonies
slips under fuming crimson rage,
eventually soaring under purplish humiliation.
Betwixt these play of colours,
peep sparkling yellowish hopes,
smoothened by some greenish solace at heart,
sometimes sprinkled by
hues of pinkish love, at random,
making my canvas of life mesmerizing.

- Sharmistha Mitra Sengupta

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