ON BEATING OF DRUMS - 1

The evening that comes in the village fold,

The figures in the dark contour,

That holds heaven of dancing tour,

And resolute in merriment of twilight,

To cross the bridge of day and night,

Villagers are on the threshold to make tide,

Dancing and turning over and again,

Each one stepping in merriment of the beating,

And some onlookers are gilded in joy,

And welcome the dance, ripening color

Of the fire that lights night across the sky,

The evening forgets dark seas,

And mingles into dancing delight. 

Note: THIS POEM FIRST POSTED IN LINKEDIN.COM ON 07.08.2012 AT Creative Outlet Ventures in a discussion of my poem, ON BEATING OF DRUMS, published in my blog at http://asimkumarpaul.blogspot.in/2012/08/on-beating-of-drums.html

 Picture Credit: Malabika Bhowmik, Kolkata