Amos

How utterly shocking it was To see his smile fading like a flower Withering in summer's hot sun, He who with his ‘Good Morn' would pause ‘Pon delivering office papers And daily supply of goodwill With his customary broad smile Only to melt soon as a moon Might behind monsoon's grey clouds, And dissolve unto his work; A smiling mobile face It seems is a forgotten grace. And hard it was to imagine Him in a hospital bed, but he was. No, it was not the dark gloom That enveloped his bed and room, His searching, sinking eyes, Nor yet the milieu all around, Nor even a sunken, gaunt face, I was struggling to trace That ubiquitous smile in vain, I hoped, would surface despite pain. But amidst the surrounding dread, A forlorn face sunk further in bleak bed! ______________________________________________________ Amos, he worked with me— a sincere, diligent hand ever smiling. I recall one day we heard the shocking news that his kidneys were sinking. The company gave some help and colleagues contributed towards medical expenses, but the treatment was long drawn, and he opted for VRS and left. The poem describes the scene at hospital bed. It has Hopkins's Sprung Rhythm. ______________________________________________________ Reminiscing | 03.10.08 |