Wordsworth said, “Child is father of the man”

But this child has now disappeared into ‘the man’

Robbed of innocence his childhood curtailed

The worldly shadows that round him prevail

Makes the heavenly- halo round him derail

Coleridge and his Ancient Mariner

Fear no more the wrath of God

Just as numerous ‘Christabels

Dread the day not the dark;

The ‘Kubla Khans ‘ of modern day

No longer, hesitate to build a ‘sunny dome’

Around the ‘Alph ’with human mortar

Shelley with his ‘exotic’ energy

Roams no more the boundless sky

With clouds of hope … or like the West Wind great

Promising rejuvenation of the spring:

Keats with his merry ‘Nightingale’

Has forever disappeared into the forest wild

And the mysterious moon with its fairies gay

Is lost with its stones and rocks;

No more does the ‘Grecian Urn’ urge

Permanency in any relationships,

‘The Skylarks’, of both Wordsworth and Shelley

Take turns to roam the sky

One longs to return to its nest

The other roams the sky

“Away, away, far, far away”

Away from the dying hopes of humanity

We too long to chariot away

“On the wings of poesy”

Not with Bacchus and his pards

To smell the fragrance of the flowers

And see the ‘heavy winged thieves

“Store their clammy cells,” with honey sweet

And repeat…

“Beauty is truth, truth beauty

That is all ye know on earth

And all ye need to know.”

                                                                   ~Shobha Diwakar

                                                                   Jabalpur, India

(with due respects to Wordsworth, Coleridge and Shelley)


  1. A beautiful poem pinpointing the loss of childhood in this maze of competition & a complicated life along with many more puzzling problems.

  2. thanks ASB for appreciating this problematic phase of childhood
    somewhere in the rush of this crazy world innocence is completely lost and children going astray and falling into traps

  3. A nice poem!
    Just as any adulteration spoils the food, its presence in human relationships too pollutes the atmosphere, and results in its premature death!
    Childhood days are very much divine, and remain as pure as the streek of water that flows in a river undisturbed
    It’s the time when pretension has no role to play, and when truth remains unaffected by other colours or shades!
    Let us go back to those enviable days, and enjoy its worth, in a casual manner, temporarily forgetting the competitive world we are in!

  4. that is a very apt interpretation of the poem OKRSji and very beautifully analyzed
    its a pity our modern children have matured before their age and face all sorts of unwanted problems at an age when they should enjoy the beatitude of life