A Stolen Day by Madhavi Lata Agrawal SignUp
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Theme: Day Share This Page
A Stolen Day
by Dr. Madhavi Lata Agrawal
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I want to steal a day
Away from the routine day
So that I can treasure
The stolen hours of pleasure.
A day away from worries
A day of pleasure unhurried,
A day with pleasant blue skies,
A day to be treasured till the end of life.
I beg this day of you
And when you bequeath
A half promise in your way
I’ll gain the knowledge of the world.
Share This:
April 11, 2021
More By: Dr. Madhavi Lata Agrawal
Views: 289      Comments: 1

Comments on this Poem

Comment Precious poet
You have written this poem like a 'madhavi lata' in a first person narration. The poet wants to stash away a day from the humdrum of the world. Having pent up in a claustrophobic vicinity, she wants to have a day exquisitely and exclusively for her. Only the silence makes a day for the poet.
The consumerism of the intellectual mudslinging, aspersions of a low down manner, a unhappy race, running helter-skelter for the divided aims, being fidgety in mentality, the poet yearns for a day intently and intensely for her own.

Keats' reverberation of a lonely voice has been vibrant here unlike the verdant life. And so, she longs for a bowery bough of romanticism on a day chosen for a serene passing off.
The obsequitious demand is not mammoth, and has been minimal from the cornocupia of natural resources. And that too from you only. By 'you' who did the poet mean is wrapped in a mystic wrap. However, her longing of the secret heart is unsophisticated and rustic in nature.

The poet has a vision of her own. She wants to cherish this longing and getting for the rest of her life.
As Browning said:
"I and my mistress side by side
Shall be together breathe and ride,
So, one day more if I am deified
Who knows the world may end tonight"?

Her only desire is to have a day of her own. No notification on the cell phone will disturb her. She wants to enjoy a day where no hot breathing will sweat her on even a cold winter. She has so been exasperated that she flies in imagination and reality on the other to possess a day so possessively. Then only the poet could feel fulfilled at the day's end.
┬ęB Paul
Feedback me, please

Capt Prof Basudev Paul
04/14/2021 03:23 AM




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