with thorns and thistles
grass and shrubs,
creepers and crates
rise high and flow deep
lie reckless in clusters
encircling and entwining,
my lovely roses look pale,
jasmine stay mangled,
lilies and poppies shy away,
lemon and mango appear withered,
coconut stands erect though,
neem and mango are bare.
Aiyo! I cry with pain
Gaze at the incorrigible
before me. Stricken with horror
I kneel before each one of them
apologize. fondle each of them with care.
I solemnly affirm by God
to restore Grace.
Om Shanthi!
Meenas Poems 