Actions Poem thoughts

Hide And Seek.

hide and seekIt is a game they call
It is hide and seek.
it is a child’s play
with one hiding
and one finding.
How many places
they find to hide?
How many ways
they seek to find?
Spots which else
not known to many
get to be discovered
with a strain unfelt.
Hide and seek
goes in a form
lively and gay..
keeping the children
in a happy sway.
The game covers
the adults too
with an altered vision
where innocence gets away
comes in the impulsiveness
in a stealthy stream.
Concealing the presence
for reasons of corruption
is in vogue nowadays.
The cops engage in a seek
driving it hard in places
unknown and unheard of.
Hiding behind a veil
to keep away from shame
has taken a turn at present
while the ignominy strikes through
the ashamed gets out
getting behind someone .
A game of the young
has become a game of
the adults too
not for joy and love of it
but out of necessity and disgrace.

Actions Care Poem

The Boy And The Pup

boy pupA little pup was in the middle
with its half-open eyes stood still.
Cars rushing up and down
passed without knocking him down
Cyclists pedalling slow
did not stoop low.
Pedestrians walking along
did not bother about his belong.
The pup remained there till noon
A boy saw the stranded pup in the afternoon.
Without a thought ran to the pup
and carefully lifted him up
Holding him close to his bosom
went towards his home.
He gave him little milk
placed him on the mat silk.

Share!boy and a pup.

Age Study subscriptions Theory thoughts True

On the Run

The days of youth are fun,

As we are always in the run,

Once we are up on a tree,

We sing aloud in a total free.


The days of adulthood are little less fun,

As  we have to move about in a slower run,

Once we are in the mid tree,

 We deliberate on things not totally free.


The days of mid age are least fun,

As we have to check out our run,

Once  we are on the lower tree,

 We  work on  the responsibilities almost unfree.


The days of old age are never a fun,

As we  have to stop our run,

Once we are beneath the tree,

 We count the days when we would be set free.