The Mother ‘s Warmth

The warmth of the mother

her smell is  a  delicate flavour

her closeness  renders a  savour

her embrace extends a solicitation

her touch passes on a  direction

her looks  lend a rejuvenation

well, that be the mother in a special

experiencing 115659d6717be0752203c1a79f6ecf08_small a satisfaction better than a ritual



Sundays Are My Days.

Sundays are never dull

as I have the day in full

I sit and stand then and there

I read and write when and where

I eat and drink as much as I can

I bathe and dry up without a ban

I sleep and dream many a time in the span

I lie in my  bed under the big  fan

that be how I spend the day

the day being none other than a Sunday.orkut-sunday-scraps-03


The Stats Crawl —-Haiku

Being a crawl

slow and steady in all

without a fall.


Being very slow

rhythmic in a steady flow

great in glow.


Being the stats

one, two, three as that

a  gentle stats crawlpat.



The Still Night.

The still night

dark and cold

nothing in sight

forces a fold.


The night induces

a sleep so sound

no dreams to deduce

none to be found.


The dreamless sleep

so peaceful in a relax

involves an ease deep

lowers the cold in a coax.


With the blankets over

the warmth prompts a lull

the eyes no longer hover

diffuses the feel dull.


An overnight slumber

with a refreshing sequel

lands you in an envious aplomb

as the mind rests in a tranquil.still night.







The Ball Rolls On.





It is a set of rules

a pack of principles

not  worked out by fools

framed by the rulers

who themselves breach

violate the precepts unmindful

chartered out by them with a reach

what then a need for a constitution   in full?

being assailed  by the lure,  the lust and the love

centers on the interest of money   in relation

a living style of aplomb inducts a  bow

rules are broken at convenience  in violation

a bribe extraordinary and in excess

releases a functionary procedure ball rolling

the ball is kept rolling  with  ease in the process