Twelve Hour - Poem by rajat ghosh

O beloved! Hear out me
What I say solemnly, See
At my face please, away
Not from my sight, sweet, anyway.

O beloved! You say "nonsense"
For my seeking some sense;
Don't say ‘no" to me hence
For Second is rounding within fence.

You are Hour standing upper
Between eleven and twelve after supper;
Minute is below to you proper
Standing very close to six like hopper.

Mark the Second's continuous moves;
How its ticks make Minute smoothly moves
Towards your slow monotonous moving Hour
Minute must meet merely at twelve hOur.
Climax! Twelve-it is now at last;
Minute now hides Hours' honey chest.
After sixty ticks Minute will discharge Hour
And will wait counting four with sour.

Poems by rajat ghosh

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