Meenas Poems
The exclusiveness I like
a way out from the rest
rather a way into the best
holds me to do with care
enthuse me to dare
a strain I do undergo
for which I forego
the comfort and ease
I guard myself against tease
go with a different approach
encumbered by not any encroach
it might look out of the blue
but that be my wish true
as I have lived so long thus
always without any fuss
many find me not to their liking
Well! it is my life I am living.
To read what I write
is but a terrible bite
as I write with a passion
nothing to do with fashion
pour my thoughts in speed
they are in verse think I indeed!
what they are to others I know not?
as I write for me alone all throughout
this way I go about in my work
performing for my satisfaction alone
a very different personality in tone
stand I very much apart from the normal
withdrawn from the world but very formal
Do I look a strange creäture to you?
Well, that is me who remains always true.
mesmerize me, my dear
the green I espied a little ago
sheds its darkness with no ego
turns light without a show
from dark to pale in a slow
a while after I perceive a change
this though not in range
looks red now not a derange
haunts me rather strange
the colour changes forth so quick
become they yellow in a tick
the leaves are no more thick
cling no more to the branches
they fall hurriedly in bunches
lay there for a rest in the trenches
emanate not any stench
the transformation scene so tall
that be the glory of the fall
autumn in Canada they call.
On the sea shore
there are more
pebbles small and big
excessive they are in a dig
in many shapes as well
hexagon and square in tell
tiny conches and shells
found there in a dwell
I, like a child eagerly
gathered them steadily
threw them into the water
flowed they back in a splatter
engaged in a play for a while
so it continued in great style
the game brought memories of past
which have been rightly cast
at the rear end of the mind.
Now, I see it as a great find.
A wisdom I attained after years
a way to live in good cheer
is to remember
the good more
forget the rest as it is a bore.
The sunshine ever so bright
always scorching right
keeps one warm and humid
renders one meek and timid
not anything to do with character
all through depends on the weather
perspiration and fatigue are a deviant
drive one far away from the event
paralyse they 
to the core
never allows one to reach the fore
that be the destiny of us
who live in tropics in a buzz
where the population teems
the sound of life is in screams
yet we survive between the droughts
Well! it could be our stoicism stout.
It is a day serene
the sky, not in a sheen
grey and black at times
there being no chime
the sun sits back quiet
not involved in anything tight
the clouds are dark and intense
hover they with a fight in a sense
a mislead to a night in trace
Well, in turn that is a sure base
it seems so destitute and silent
as I sit with a gaze in a trident
my mind is heavily bent
it does suffer a serious dent.
Lo! my eyes need a rest
to see all the best.
The road so broad and long
looked very huge and strong
stood at an end in awe
most apprehensive with a tremble.
Halted for a time there
eyes went almost bare
feared to go ahead though
with one foot on the road.
The dilemma surged in a rave
across to the other side brave
contemplated awhile in fear.
en suite rushed across the lane.
The heart jumped from within
got caught in the midway din
cars honked on either side mad
feet trembled in a distinct shiver sad.
The drivers shouted in bridling anger
cursed me in a note of stammer
scared I made way to the opposite
unmindful of the swear and scream.
This way it could be an instance
the road is a semblance
of life in a wholesome pretence
this being an appraisal of a defence.
As such cross of the road is easy
be it accompanied by anything not dizzy
so much so with the life characteristic
be it engrossed with a serious outlook.
The midsummer dream
of sunshine and pleasure
induces one to take leisure
as it is a season of treasure
great and clear of nature
bounteous in its fruitfulness
caressing in its expansiveness
weather of sensitive exuberance
where growth is in predominance
while life enjoys a reverberation
be that one of great exaltation
trade and transaction are buoyant
cheer and spright are flamboyant
a season so nice and cordial
though one has to go through an ordeal
of hard work and strain in diligence
yet a respite in general and in advance
as the fall and winter come forth
which provokes one to a loathe
as the snow and cold knock one down
and the brows knit in a frown.
The call from home
rings frequent
a great trend it is
away for long from home
a sequence not usual
the warmth of its interior
strikes through in a cosy
the magnificent exterior
extends a loving embrace
found missing in this sojourn
where the wish to see places
takes a fair part of the time
the most important be
the time with own kin
reaches the saturation
that in a fit of the moment
the strong firm whisper
knocks the ear in turns
holds the breath in a clasp
while the mind turns in a thirst
to get back home in first.
Meenas Poems 