Poem: Imaginative Wings

By: Harjeet Singh 
Saints are owner of Third Eye
But we people have imaginative wings
burdened with excogitation.
Creative mind belched some fragments of literary findings
But now I am mystified,
What did it begin to exhale?
At times, it snoops into other affairs
Perhaps because I have been a ghost
of creative work.
Whenever I passed by some readymade costumes market
I always felt prompted because of
some favored graphs and lines on habiliments
And purchased them with sudden choice
and impromptu pocket(funds)
But now what happens to me,
Whenever I close my eyes to augur
pant-shirt combination:
Clothes,curves on them and matching,
sought by my own imaginative wings
Like a dress designer,
dangle before my closed eyes.
And I run to find out,
But still they are not available.

Categories: Poetry

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