This poem has its origins long ago in a jaunt on the Mississippi river on board the paddle-steamer SS Natchez.

Dream River

As water-light dances through cabin blinds

in scintillant counterpoint to her chattering bow,

a brooding threnody of whistles fills up the big boat's horizon-lines;

the mate checks the bearing of her painted prow.

Well-worn warrior of river life, paddles slap...

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By: Mirza Sharafat Hussain Beigh

1
My sight caught few papers scattered
On the shelf, sunk in time.
I wiped dust cautiously from papers,
So words could remain intact.
Yet, soul energetic and each word
Sustaining therein, though condoling.
And a number of couplets
Each on paper finding reciter.
I pushed the window to let air in
And perched on old window frame‟s sill, wide and thick...

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