Monthly Archives: October 2012

A Poor Girl Yonder.


Tossing in the bed she lies.

Wrinkling her brows she cries.

Twisting her nose she tries.

Biting her lips she controls.

 

Up she gets  out of her bed.

Over her eyes look red.

Above she knocks her forehead.

High  she stumbles ahead.

 

In she walks along the aisle.

Into she  stutters over the trail.

Inside she breaks like a frail.

Inward she flutters as a gale.

 

Out she rushes out of the gate.

Outside she maintains her gait.

 

She attains the status of a feature.

She achieves a celebrity in structure 

She embarks as a classical  figure.

Oh! she is nothing more than a poor creature

 

 

The symptoms of Down.


Rituals keep us tied down.

Religion makes us bow down.

Commitments compel us to flow down.

Fear forces us to lie down.

Distress tracks us almost down.

Struggle combats with thrust down.

Survival is the only thought that blows down.

 

There Sits the Child.


A child over there,

 sits in a corner,

with nothing to share,

looks like a loner,

none to care,

expresses a sordid  groan,

nervous  like a hare,

crys like a mourner,

confined to a bare,

thinking aloud  no sooner,

falls  down in scare,

collapsing every other in a flare,

well, that is  the end of the fair.

 

 

 

The value Of Tradition


It is a tradition on the move.

sticking to the values in a  grove,

shunning the deviation in a blue,

passing on with a conservative flew,

implementing a decorum true,

gliding she crosses the avenue like a dew.

 

Her move is  an enthusiasm  lively.

With a charisma she proceeds gaily,

with a stamina she presides sternly.

with a  discipline she conducts firmly,

with an energy she works untiringly,

taking her to the  step of victory. 

 

Tradition is not  only in her attire specially.

It is  found in her speech almost admiringly.

It is seen in her manners all the most specifically.

It is explicit in her character very distinctly.

It is visible in her demeanour most explicitly.

Tradition makes her look tallerexplicitly,  than everyone else totally.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

A Slice Of Life


Heard of slice of bread for sure.

It keeps the tummy full all the more.

Heard about the slice of cake not unsure  

It makes the lip  smack ever more.

Heard about the slice of life in an assure. 

It is a narration of experience nothing more.

 

Bread is for sustenance no doubt.

It is the basic requirement for all.

Cake is for a difference no doubt.

It is a desired inclination for the tall.

Life is  a reference no doubt.

It is a practical restoration before a fall.

 

Slices  give directions almost.

Leading to an enactment in their way.

Survival is never a question most.

Enjoyment  is  also never a problem most.

Pulling on is ever a challenge almost.

So slices are but  reactions definite at the most.

Time To laugh


Take time to laugh.

Laugh at yourself enough.

Laugh at your struggles tough.

Laugh at  your experiences rough.

Laugh at your foibles muff.

Laugh at your  own voice gruff.

Laugh at your wordy bluff.

Laugh at your smooth sailing surf.

Laugh at your  cosy turf

Laugh at everything in a huff.

It is time to laugh and laugh.

 

 

Drought


Drought prevails all over.

Rivers are brown in a stop over.

Grass has turned yellow in a make over.

Cattle  look pale white in a drop over.

Men  appear faintly dark in a hang over.

drought extinguishes all spirit in a fall over.