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A Ketch to Somewhere & The Golden Hour

Poetry, Shamik Banerjee

A Ketch to Somewhere

I will take a ketch to somewhere,

On a river unwide,

From edge, the fragrant wheatfield's air,

And Sun will be my guide;

I've heard the southern days are mild,

And nights pass gayly by,

Whose backcountry's home to the wild,

So there I'll take my eye;

And in my sailing, I will see,

The roily riverside

And fish that swift peeking at me,

Deep in the water hide;

And watch the spar pointing the sun

That the fish-hawk outtowers,

And Heaven shift blue, gold and dun,

In the dayful hours;

To sleep beneath the skyclad night,

On this sweetwater stream,

Where all my unease will take flight

And eathly I will dream;

No more the land when I can view,

Nor the port where I stood,

I'll know far from the town I rew

And never shall retrude.


The Golden Hour

The morning-birds are sheltered in the green

And slowly, from the heaven's interstice,

Does come its golden light, and there is seen,

Where vast kingric of our Creator is.

The blue dye of crepuscule time is done,

So admiration is towards the white;

For once again, our hearts awake with sun,

And humbles us to praise again its light;

Like earth, flowers too did their smiles unfold,

As it would collate for its dayful need;

and children are rapt, 'neath the ether gold,

As they would sport in comradeship indeed;

And two-three combined birdcalls make their way

To sweetly daw my eyelids as I lay!


Shamik Banerjee (he/him) 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 for Solitude and Poetry provides him happiness.


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