Poem Hunter
Poems
Summer In Calcutta
MS (8.4.1929 / Marton, Lancashire)

Summer In Calcutta

What is this drink but
The April sun, squeezed
Like an orange in
My glass? I sip the
Fire, I drink and drink
Again, I am drunk
Yes, but on the gold
of suns, What noble
venom now flows through
my veins and fills my
mind with unhurried
laughter? My worries
doze. Wee bubblesring
my glass, like a brides
nervous smile, and meet
my lips. Dear, forgive
this moments lull in
wanting you, the blur
in memory. How
brief the term of my
devotion, how brief
your reign when i with
glass in hand, drink, drink,
and drink again this
Juice of April suns.

User Rating: 3,3 / 5 ( 16 votes ) 8

Comments (8)

When I saw the title of this poem, I thought it would be another of your dry humorous poems. Then I read this and found it more serious than humorous, more delightful than silly, and extremely well done. You have so much talent, Michael. Don't turn off the PC too often! Raynette
this haiku inspired by your lines: poet/the growth as he maps himself/in his words
I just told myself to read more of your stuff. Enjoyed.
Thanks for your advice, Sandra. I'll stop trying to write to please Herbert.
Yes she is and this is quite good. I apologize for all the attacks on you from any and all here, especially if I contributed. Nebulous comments are sometimes cold and impersonal, it is the nature of the form. But, I don't understand it and I can't say you deserve it. My advice would be to write for yourself and ignore the rest. Writing is a lonely business so don't let anyone dissuade you. And I have dogs, they do twitch & dream. I always hope they get the rabbit. Nice work.
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