Meenas PoemsBeautifully stringed mango leaves
hung on the entry door
a sign of welcome in Indian houses
put up during auspicious occasions
they look so enticing and seem to greet
a charm spreads 
with an extension
as they dangle in the gentle breeze
seem to beckon you with a warm smile
address you in a pleasant voice
“come home”. “come home”
“you are most welcome”
a solicitation with a cordiality
never any human could express
a gesture cannot be imitated
practiced from time immemorial
A mother’s womb is so warm
as the baby glides slowly it cries shrill
as if it is out in a storm
when laid on the mother’s bosom
it sleeps quiet and calm.
The child sucks the breast hard
finds no milk at once
there hangs the umbilical cord
stained in damp red blood
illustrates the birth bold.
The phenomenon of growth
from childhood to adulthood
arranged with learning in all likelihood
as the child attains manhood
with intentions all good.
Love and hate cross intermittent
there is a conflict well displayed
with the abhorrence gaining a determinant
love in a scope is not prominent
the clash of egos become imminent.
The contradictions are magnified much
the feuds take the magical wand
they easily dislocate the fastened bond
the I in me and the I in you are around
the battle is fought, one losing the ground.
A slight adjustment here
a light alteration there
could bring in wonders with a shine
the resultant be an endearment fine
that would open all the nine gates in line.
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Meenas Poems 