Yeah! When thy soothing hands art clamped on my shy shoulder,
O my ever shining Love Bulb's securest, loyalest and most handsome Holder;
I gladly fly into an Elysian world of euphoria, ecstasy and exhilaration,
Oh! I soon dream like leaping to a utopian Land of blissful emancipation!
Yeah! When thy comforting and caressing hands art placed on my crooning shoulder,
A great many fairies, to dance, gambol and revel,
pop out of my content heart's folder;
I suck with inordinate rapture, from their regaling touches, a heavenly Ambrosia,
And find myself more fortunate and more fulfilling than Bassanio's prettiest Portia!
Yeah! When thy fondling and healing hands dost adorn my chaste shoulder,
An ordinary and timid Lady in me turns extraordinary, more beautiful and bolder,
Even Death seems to be showering on me more relishing Peace, let alone Life,
My content, fortified feet can run unhurt on the hurdle-bombs, let alone a knife!
Yeah! When thy immortal hands dost land on my mortal shoulder,
All my wants cease; life's final Goal is reached; and is scaled the Salvation Ladder!
Copyright: Shankar D Mishra 18.07.19
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