Meenas Poems
He acts so well before all
with a design in mind
not very straight after all
very deceitful on the find
says one thing upfront
differs at the back
well this has been his stunt
from the day I remember in track
many get carried away by his charm
losing themselves in his serpentine meandering
he with his dramatic skill reaps a lot in form
gaining wealth with ease in the going
that is the shortcut he devices with great prowess
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I get a phone call every morn from a far away land across the seas I eagerly wait for the call moving nowhere as the caller speaks so loving and beautiful
Answering each of my questions with a grin and giggle his voice goes up and down like a song holding a frequency attuned to the replies.
He talks with an attitude mature listening keenly to my words responding appropriately to them with a melodious tone and cheer.
He could well understand my language never once he put a question forward I could make out very little of his answers which came out with a spontaneity straight.
Curious to know who it would be you would have by now started to deliberate let me reveal his identity in a way that you could comprehend and admire.
The caller being none other than my cute toddler just one and half years old learning to speak talks he in a language of his own which I, half a century and more, fail to decipher.
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There is a difficulty
that being of adding tags
not being to add media
the blog loses its shine
built with efforts great
working with attention straight
there seems to be a temporary set back
know not how to set it right
with fingers crossed looking for methods
while the impossibility looms large
feeling little disheartened and disillusioned.
anyone there to help me?
The curtains rise for the day
that being of sunrise in the morn
with the darkness slowly giving way
the light spreads its ray
out comes the sun in speed less
mounting up from the ocean with no stress
the lovely yellowish red ball gets across
alighting from the bluish-green waters in a toss
the grey tinge to the sky moves out in phases
giving way to the yellowish light with a grace
the activities begin with a wake up and attention
followed by the rush and push with tension
jumping on with a fervour and motivation
running towards the appointments in a hurried representation
gathering the details in a scurried frantic
with that the curtains have gone fully up the attic
the denouement over in a fair go without test
the main act being performed with earnest
the final act is fast approaching
with that the curtains are pulled down with a closing
with that comes the end of the game in all
the drama of life ends up with a tale.
awaiting a restful night .
Meenas Poems 