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The Playland
Once in a playland caked with fresh-born mud,
I saw a league of book-freed children smile
collectively like petals of a bud
in varied forms, yet similar all the while.
Palms latched, they capered; every tooth a pearl;
all independent like the wandering clouds.
No hands to throw them in the worldly whirl
nor cares to mute their laughter spread aloud.
Unmoving, as I stood to soak my eye
in childhood’s jolliness that flittered free
like countless godwits soaring through the sky,
I saw my youth resuscitate in me
and gained a lot beneath that April’s sun—
this sight whose wealth can be compared to none.
.
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Shamik Banerjee is a poet from Assam, India, where he resides with his parents. His poems have been published by Sparks of Calliope, The Hypertexts, Snakeskin, Ink Sweat & Tears, Autumn Sky Daily, Ekstasis, among others. He received second place in the Southern Shakespeare Company Sonnet Contest, 2024.
This is a moving reminder of what it is like to be young and free, to share good times with friends, and to feel unbridled joy. Wonderful reminder, Shamik.
Aren’t we all young souls trapped in ageing bodies, Mr. Peterson? Thank you so much for reading and commenting. God bless!
Shamik, there’s much to like in your sonnet: “fresh-born mud”; “every tooth a pearl”; and godwit birds. As it closes with the memory of youthful carefree days, the poem retains a lively freshness throughout. Very nice.
I am very happy to learn about your thoughts on my poem, Cheryl. Thank you so much for reading and commenting.
This is a solid, creditable Shakespearean sonnet by a poet who may very well have English as a second language. This shows the universality of English in the world today — just as in the ancient word, Syrians like Philodemus could write excellent poetry in classical Greek, and North African Berbers like Fronto could write immaculate Latin prose. A master craftsman like Shamik puts many of our native speakers and poets to shame.
I note two things: the poem begins with a trochaic (or as I like to say, choriambic) start. The word “Once” takes the first stress. And in the fourth line, the word “similar” needs an elision of the medial /i/ to fit the meter. Not a glaring elision, but a small and barely noticeable one.
The ideologues who push for “perfect, unvaried, unsubstituted meter” will no doubt look upon these two things as “errors” or “defects.” But in fact they are signs of Shamik’s professional skill as a true traditional poet.
It took me time to absorb these precious words coming from a master of traditional poetry himself. What can I even say, Mr. Salemi? I’m overwhelmed at the moment, and all I can think of is gratitude for having someone like you amongst us who not only is a great poet himself but also a great guide. Thank you so much for your uplifting words!
We should all do as you have done and find ways to resuscitate youth. I grew up when we were allowed to roam free without any adult supervision, and long before video games. Those were the days.
I agree, Warren. I was born in the 90s and used to spend most of my leisure hours outdoors, playing football, cricket, cycling…you name it. Now, I am just another sheep of the herd. Yes, I do find myself scrolling through social media often now, but I am glad that the urge to go out for a brief stroll, sit in a tea stall, gaze at the passing throngs, and watch schoolchildren play is still alive in me. Grateful for your comment.
What a lovely sonnet, with so many really original phrases. “Book-freed children” is such a concise and attention-grabbing way of saying a thing. Describing the children as “like petals of a bud” — each unique yet similar — is also so far from being trite that it really engages the reader’s imagination. “Worldly whirl” is a wonderful alliteration. And the narrator soaking his eye in childhood’s jolliness is an expression that I’m guessing (I’m making the assumption that, as Joseph theorized above, you may not be a native English speaker) probably wouldn’t have been thought of by a native English speaker.
Or not English only? Is it one of those expressions, like “lotus eyes” or “long eyes” for prettiness or “still struggling” for keeping the faith, that are familiar in some bilingual areas but seem fresh in the US?
You give us a nostalgic vision of childhood’s freedom from cares as seen from the perspective of the adult worn down by the burdens of life. We can all step into this scene and sympathize with its perspective.
Dear Shamik,
Oh, that more children knew the joy the children in your poem knew! I resonate with your “resuscitated youth.” What a meaningful phrase. I had to look up godwit. A new word for me – thank you.
Gigi
I think most of those commenting are of an era where, once schooldays ended, we were out and about, exploring, having fun and annoying the more staid citizens of the community.
Your poem brings it all back. I loved the image ‘every tooth a pearl’. It emphasises both the participants’ age and innocence.
If I might make one small suggestion, maybe you could consider changing ‘wandering’ to ‘meandering’, what with wandering being so synonymous with clouds.
Thanks for the read, Shamik.
I just love the musicality and beauty of this alliterative sonnet with images that rise from the page to make me smile in delight, and the accompanying picture is perfect. Shamik, thank you for your splash of sunshine on a stormy morning in Texas.
Thank you for this fresh and lovely poem, Shamik. I just want to say how much I agree with all the positive comments you’ve deservedly garnered above! Best wishes, Bruce.
As a person who has often been mud-caked, even unto early adulthood, I deeply appreciate your accurate estimation of the importance of play. Keep the good English coming!