Epitaph for Khushwant

by K.S. Subramanian

His grey beard was a prism of
joy in living, evening out pain;
Had his share of rows with the
mighty, let it die with a grin.
Woke the morn with a pen,
so seductive was its nib;
Malice was only on its tip,
yet never flowed in the blue.
His eyes had the spark of wit,
never departed from wisp of truth!
He harvested a valley of hate,
never sowing it in his stream;
For he saw the light in the tunnel,
wished Man to see his dream!
The Muse was in his veins,
forever swimming in its magic;
Death, a visitor to every door,
was too shy to even knock;
Now he will rest in peace,
The pen will miss its soulmate.

25-Mar-2014

More By : K.S. Subramanian

Views: 1550 Comments: 4

Comments on this Poem

thanks Mr.Mouli.

mani
29-Mar-2014 08:15 AM

Lovely poetic tribute,sir.Picture adds splendour to splendid flow of silken feelings.Kudos to you and Aparna ji.

T.S.Chandra Mouli
27-Mar-2014 21:59 PM

Welcome, Mani Ji

alwaysaparna
27-Mar-2014 14:09 PM

Thanks Aparnaji for the choice and the lively picture to go with it.

Mani
26-Mar-2014 22:37 PM