Meenas PoemsThe sign of one’s execution
renders a reservation
registers an impression
being not one of ordinary
displays a feel of extraordinary
a sensitivity as found
keeps one spellbound
would tell it is done by you
could only be achieved by very few
certainly become a cynosure of all eyes
and last for years and years
a perpetuation be on its way
as generations come to play.
Lucky they be who go happy
nothing more to worry
they move about in a hurry
achieve everything in a flurry.
Lucky be those who do not work hard
nothing more to die hard
they carry on without any efforts hard
accomplish everything in a way not hard.
Lucky be those who ride on other’s shoulders
nothing more as they are emboldened
they go forward without any folders
attain everything easily like the toddlers.
Lucky be those who are lucky
nothing more to be than luckier
they are deemed to be lucky
surpass everyone as they are lucky.
Way back in the eighties
way back when I was young
way back I was so active
way back I had my family around
way back, being way back,
now
I sit at home with my furniture
gaze at them with love
talk to them as if they could hear
scold them for being impertinent
smile at them with affection
caress them with tender care
yes, I live with them in rooms
where they lie idle and beautiful
none to sit or lie on them
be us the husband and wife
look at each other with love
been with us romantic in early years
turned now to a care for each other
prefer the company of one another
though there occurs no more conversations
just a look with a beam of love.
Meenas Poems 