When Moon Will Be Moon Poem by shuvo chakraborty

Mid May Moon, rise not now
With such dim face in burnt haven.
Troubling summer with fiery fumes
Has filed the skyey sphere to utter haziness
Making your turf more tired and clay
Sucking all azures from Venus scoop.
The mirror of haven looking so crystal
In late autumn and winter now appears quite broken.
Starry legions are although bright and suave
May not be accompanying candles
For your self glimpse, because mirror is torn.
Thy dewless airy bed will be more harsh and uncomfortable.
Blazing sun with iron face
Has dried all the ponds and river beds,
Rivulets and streams are now extreme slim
With scanty water makes no glasses for alternate viewing.
Then what will ye do in such akward place
Earth is not earth for your heavenly game,
Senses grow drowsy and numb
Perspiring faces of beloved are more grave and dull,
Ink of fancy turns white like bonny hues
Skeleton of warm nights in last winter
Are dancing around through our drawing rooms.
Everything looks blurr and pale
Verses new born are lifeless and lazy.
So bid thy slow pace with twinkling nimble
And make a swift disappearance from charmless haven
Ere setting of another autumn,
Rechristen the nights damaged vase
Piling enough moony faces,
Your homecoming amid their scenting bosoms.