Category: reverberation

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Lullaby


In future

Will hear a song a little away

So sweet and soothing,

So touching and smothering,

Making one to sway.


At present.

Hear a  voice now,

So appealing and delicate,

So lovely and  intricate,

Letting the  head to bow


Long ago,

Heard a melody a while ago,

So enrapturing and binding,

So enchanting and fastening,

Melting the heart to glow.


Always.

It is always  a mother’s song

Laden  with  ecstasy

Where the rhythmic fantasy,

Holds the throng.


Affection

The  eyelids  close

When   the love  engulfs

While the affinity  entices

Rendering a sight of a rose.


Time immemorial

Hush   little  baby,

Hush  do not cry,

As dad loves you,

And so do I










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A Rosy bud.


A rose bud dangles in the air,

The pinkish hue looks fair,’

The green stalk dances along,

To the vibrant  Nature’s  song.


My Little lady in  pink,

Smiles at me with a wink,

Regally  she  glides   along,

With a  submissive throng.


The bud looks  incredibly  lush

My  little lady appears   thoroughly fresh,

As the tiny bud   gaily  beckons

My beautiful  lady   firmly reckons.


The bud   looks    firmly tight

My little lady  expresses  terms bright,

As  the  lovely bud   gleefully  calls

My sweet lady   happily  responds.


The bud   is none other than   rose

My little lady  is  no other than Meenu,

As the rose bud is  a lovely  exuberance

My  little  lady is a  graceful  elegance




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Fly Above.


The rising  dawn in a silvery tone.

The  early morn rising  from a slumber,

The cool dainty rustling breeze,

Invite me,

To fly above.


The  receding dusk in a golden hue,

The eve  settling to a sombre mood,

The gentle  tired whispering wind,

Beckon me ,

To fly above.



The  shimmering  moon  alighting   from  the sky,

The night sinking into   pitch darkness,

The silent  sleepy whispering wind,

Call me ,

To fly above.


Wish to fly away from the crowd,

Long to run away from the fret,

Like to get away from the world,

Love   so much,

To fly above.


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Begot An Angel


It was a Monday morn,

Much ahead of  schedule

With half closed eyes ,

With a quaint smile,,

With a loud cry,

I see my angel descend.

  

  

His  smile still lingers,

Though with a  gushing  mischief,

His   sharp wit still persists,

Though with an added incision,

I stand in expectation,

As  I notice  my angel’s growth..

  

  

  

His  enthusiasm  enlivens,

His  determination deciphers

His   authority  affirms,

His  boldness bolsters,

I   head towards the goal,

 As I espy my   angel  blossom.

  

  

 

 

Unruffled by  misdemeanour,

Unscathed by adversities,

Untouched by  frailties,

Unflinched by failures,

I  clamber to the heights

 As I conceive my angel’s  triumph.

 

 

 

The youngest of my brood,

The  pampered of all

The wittiest of the lot,

Spreads a cosy  snug,

Wherever he be.

 

 

Memories go back,

Thoughts push forward,

I hear my little one’s call,

“Atha”

in full – throated  ease.

 

 

 

His cry  wakens me from the reverie

  Thou art  an adult in the offing,

 Thou art a responsible man in stature,

Thou  art an articulate entity,

 Thou art a  grand designate,

Yet you are  my darling

My blessings embark ,

on the wings of poesy,

Fly  across the mighty ocean,

In great speed and spirit,

To greet you,

As you rise up ,

on your birthday.

 

‘

 

 

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reverberation thoughts

On Becoming A Mother


This day a few decades back.

 I was just out of college,

Right out of my examination hall,

A few months over twenty-one,

Holding my mother”s  hand,

I walked into the hospital.

  

  

Biting my lips,

Squeezing my hands,

Trembling with fear

Squirming in pain,

I got into labour.

  

 

The Gynaecologist  is  at work,

Engaged in the process,

My mother  pats my head,

As I endure the pain,

While going through labour

 

 

It is a girl, cries the Doc,

Nay, it is a boy,calls the nurse,

As the baby glides through, 

I smile in exhaustion,

 While  I  hold my son close .

 

 

 He is a pinkish hue,

With a velvety black hair,

His bright big eyes

And dainty lips

Make me swell  with pride.

 

 The day , this year.

My son, though a man now,

Is still  a babe to me,

I love you  so much dear!

I send my  bounteous blessings

While you  .celebrate your birthday 

Miles away from me.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Over A Cup Of Tea


Oh! let me tell you,

It is an incessant chatter,

With a haughty banter,

It is  a profound analysis,

With a fiery prognosis,

It is a sincere deliberation,

With an incised proposition,

It is a hopeful  prologue

With an insight dialogue,

It is a decided conclude,

With a thought include   ,

It is a perfect  delineation,

With a scrupulous distinction,

It is an ultimate finality ,

 All over a cup of tea.

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Seeing Through


It was a scintillating  sight,

Looking  merely was  beautiful and lovely,

Seeing through was grandiloquent,

As,

It portrayed the nuances fully,

It depicted the greatness mightily,

It expressed the concepts thematically,

It embellished the synthesis scrupulously,

It  enjoined the fusion craftily,

It kneaded the sources deftly,

It scored over the icons nimbly,

It  extolled the infinite profoundly.

 

 

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Whither Warming?


As the sun rises in the east,

The day breaks with a beat,

As the sun reaches the noon,

The day blasts with a swoon,

As the sun sets in the west,

The day subdues with a rest.

  

 As the morn challenges  with a bet,

The noon  perspires with a sweat,

 As the eve  wrenches with  a dust,

The night sleeps with a crust.

  

  

 As the morning starts in  a hurry,

The noon pushes into a dreary,

 As the eve rushes into a fatigue,

The night settles in an intrigue.

 

 

As the morning warmth is cosy,

The noon heat is fiery,

 As  the evening air is sultry,

The night environ is  swanky

 

 As the  day becomes warmer,

The night becomes a  torture,

 As the sway unfolds a tirade,

The sweep controls a fade.

 

 

Whither goes the world?

Towards a driest fold.

Whither goes the warming?

Towards a land swarming.

Whither goes the  inkling?

Towards a bay tickling.

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If Wishes Were Horses.


I want to go the moon,

I want to become a billionaire soon,

I want to climb great heights fast

I want to possess land vast, 

I want to  achieve laurels  quick,

I want to make life tick,

I want to grow tall,

I want to help all,

I want to live in glee,

I want to be busy as a bee,

Thus sings my heart.

 

My mind calls,

“if wishes were horses ,then beggars would ride”.

My heart sinks,

My eyes wink,

My thought  dries,

My spirit dies.

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Faith In Me


I walk with pride,

I walk with head high,

I walk with no fear,

Illustrating the faith in me.

 

 

I speak with facts,

I speak with basis,

I speak  no lie,

Enunciating the faith in me.

 

 

I act with courage,

I act with thought,

I act with no procrastination,

Expressing the faith in me.

 

 

I listen with patience,

I listen with interest,

I listen with  no distraction

Evolving the faith in me.

 

 

I accomplish with grace,

I accomplish with poise,

I accomplish with no inaccuracy,

Propagating the faith in me.