The hair has turned silver
the face reflects a golden hue
the lips display a coraltinge
while the cheeks are scarlet as ruby
the emerald tone overall
along with a sapphire feel
she in her platinum years
stands there as ebullient as rhodium
while all the precious takes the scroll
there be a charm of all in one
that be the lady at the stroll
baptized as “vairam” at home
translated in English as diamond
has she all the precious in her control
a rich lady not in name alone
in character and looks too as detailed above.
Author: meenas17
A lover of classical Carnatic music.
An avid reader, passionate writer, into stocks and investments for livelihood
The Plausibility Of Love.
Affinity for a particular
love for the specific
find no reason whatsoever
be it for the good
or be it for the bad
the inclination as seen
knows no bounds
it overwhelms though
it flows over not slow
floods all the more
might bring benevolence
might also cast a fury
both being unknown
the rationality not seen
the affinity grows in speed
while the love mops up
the flaws and foibles all through
shows only the bright traits
as other deficits tank down
called as plausibility of love.
The Momentum
A Placard.
A placard in the temple
reflects in ample
the motive behind
is it a bind
I know not
to the dot
it is a self proclamation
call it an innovation
a way to celebrate
a move to
show
he be the man big
a reference in dig
a show off of his wealth
if that be in stealth
a ploy to attract
a feel in detract
he exposes instead
the follies in distress.
Top Of The World
A friend of mine
talks with a shine
smile is her weapon
defeats she a dozen
sensitive she is true
she never lets any clue
preserves her hurt close
performs her act
in chose
comes she with a dagger
sets the opponent to a stagger
an interesting persona
she commands a validity
nice to relate to her
great to depend on her
true to the words
she is top of the world.
Happened to see a workshop
not a big one in size
a small shop into details
where the nuts and screws
the hinges and glue
all talked of quality
more the while the hands
were deft and quick
did the work with precision
a sight interesting
brought to my mind
the poetry workshop
where the rhymes and meter
the flow and theme
the meaning and beauty
fall into bits and pieces
the skeleton remains
a delineation is it?
nay it is a dissection
go to amputate the limbs
burst the arteries
lie ill
for a while in sobriety
slowly pass on to eternity
The Cry and Smile
The child cries
for what she knows not
cries she all aloud
tears run down her cheeks
face turns scarlet
the mother tries to pacify her
feeds her with milk
makes noise with the rattle
holds her close to the bosom
the child cries even more
knowing not what to do
the mother breaks down
she whispers and sobs
looks the child perplexed
sits there silent for a time
crawls towards her mother
wipes the tears that flow
softly kisses her mom
with a broad smile as ever.
Did I Not?
The bee is busy
never sits cosy
buzzes all around
very much duty bound.
The ant is alert
never does it flirt
moves in train
saves for the rain.
The sparrow works forever
never does it quiver
flies with a follow
settles in a hollow.
The man manipulates 
never does he deviates
possessed by greed
help he not those in need.



