Meenas PoemsMelodious it is
reverberates all through the days
blessed I feel.
Rapturous it is
passes through all through the days
blessed I feel.
Heavenly it is
exalted all through the days
blessed I feel.
Blessed I am
exhilarated all through the days
need no more.
Art is in the mind
nay not in the heart
the feel gives way
the intimacy takes away
born is a masterpiece.
The intensity as seen
comes from the soul
percolates into the work of art
not anything in short
born is a masterpiece.
The niceties as expressed
be it in lines as in paintings
the smothering touch of the brush
the colours burst out with a blush
born is a masterpiece.
The beauty of the writing
be it in poems, prose or drama
the twists, turns and a stir
experienced in a momentous spur
born is a masterpiece.
The melody in music
be it in vocal or instrumental
the ups and downs with 
rhapsody
that which keeps one in an ecstasy
born is a masterpiece
The music flows
like a stream in course
not with force.
The cat mews from very near
sometimes it cries like a baby in fear
sobs and whimpers on and off at times
makes me wonder for a time
wherein the baby has come from
when only two of us live here
no others in the vicinity as of now
the fat cat in my back yard with its hoofs
moves up and down my tiled roof
a thud like noise is heard in the night
stealthily crosses my wall in silence
a curiosity in its eyes seen in intense
as if I have intruded its privacy
cuddles under my cars securely
enjoys the afternoon siesta peacefully.
being so, a few days ago it had a guest
a big white cat with whiskers full of zest
both would take a stroll in the evening
the clock tower on the first evening
the next day would visit the market 
the third day to the river front for a while
the oil palm plantations would be the final trial
hope the guest would move back home very soon
as I am not prepared to have both of them till noon,
The withered grass cries for rain
the blade of grass is yellow
everything looks weary and hapless.
The rain less days are too many
innumerable in the count as always
everything looks weary and hapless .
The rivers are dry and lie in vain
long since water flowed through
everything looks weary and hapless.
That be the cause when there is no rain
seem to be famished and barren
everything looks weary and hapless.
It is being years now
an incident comes back
not in real as such
in memory as such.
It is being years
a bride being advised
not by anyone as such
by the mother as much.
Being not one of long
being one word strong
be smart as such
smarter as much.
The bride nodded
this way and that way
understanding not as such
not fully as much.
The bride being me.
It is being years now
the bride has turned old
comes to know as such
meets the eye now as much.
It is the word smart
holds on to me even now
being one of value as such
prudence be it as much.
It means a lot now to me
careful and cautious
patient and never in haste as such
sweet and charming as such.
It interprets in many ways to me
see through in depth
never go into the intricacies as such
nor be out of them as much.
Have gone through a lot in life
fun , strife, struggle altogether
never did I cow down as such
remained upbeat as much.
It is being years now.
I stand up with pride
the one word was enough as such
a solid and sure guide as much.
A beautiful flower in full bloom
a lovely child in full smiles
a painting in full life
a building in a splendour
would compete with each other
one overwhelms the other
the only one that stands out
that carries in a sway
to which I fall head over heels
could you guess from the choices
a few chances I extend to you
let them be my takeaways
no, you cannot tell the one
I like perhaps you would also like
being the smile of a child
innocence shines through
the toothless smile wins over
the sparkle in the eyes
turns to be a bliss as always.
The 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 