A beautiful day it is
the mind looks wonderful
nothing much to think about
as usual retrospecting
got stuck at one point
back to the days of my aunts
they were four altogether
knew them for their loveliness
the eldest being short in stature
tall in her decisions
spoke in form and authority
humorous and practical
a favourite of mine
the second one was
not serious in anything
a spendthrift and very kind
the third one was quiet and went about her way
while the last aunt was petite and soft
hurting none spoke in whispers
the clan of mine now dead and gone
still rush back to me when I am alone
keep company with me spelling out love and care.
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Meenas Poems 