I go to no concert,
I hear music from where I am,
The breaking of dawn is music to me,
As I hear the hen call cock a doodle do ,
It is a high pitch call,
Followed by the crows caw,
Which denotes a base tone,
Then come the sparrow chirping ,
In a gay collective note,
A little away I see a goat bleat,
Along with the cow’s moo,
Heightened by the donkey’s bray,
Jarring with the dog’s bow-wow,
Softened by the pussy cat’s meow.
As the day advances to mid morning,
The cry of the babies ,
Mark the loudness
While the constant chatter of elders,
In hushed tones,
The clatter of pans in the kitchen,
Bear a deafening frequency,
The hurried sweeping of the floor,
Call for a hustle
The mopping and brushing,
Create a swishing noise,
The hissing of a shower,
Presents a comfort zone.
The day draws to a close,
With the birds flying back,
Fluttering their wings,
The animals get calm ,
By retreating to their dens,
The children become sleepy,
Giving out a tired yawn,
While the adults relax back,
With the television on,
The gentle breeze sets in,
Refreshing with its melody,
As the night slowly embraces the sky.
In a harmonious excellence.
Meenas Poems 