Meenas PoemsThe child I never bore
turned out to be attached more
nestling closely to me
whenever she gets near me
smiling at me with affection
whenever she comes home in vacation
talking to me with love great
caring for me without abate
that much I am blessed
having found a child instead
who I feel has had a link
an attachment without a blink
that would go a long way
making both of us gay. 
My back yard with trees huge
expressing greenery all around
turned white in a deluge
a change different and unsound.
With none of us at home that day
with appointments elsewhere
the builder next door in a way
dug a bore without any care.
The peat soil flew all over
clothing the lovely trees white
with the ground drenched by a sand shower
Oh! it was a very ghastly sight.
With the white attire intact
the trees remained horrible
and with no rains in fact
they were destined to be so in all possible.
The builder went about unbothered
many calls and warnings were left answered
Town planning rules being not followed
perhaps broken by bribes in silent method.
The world thus moves on in mirth
where the law breakers find a way out
as their wrong doings go in stealth
the rightful stand to lose all throughout.
The wrong side of fifties is taking its toll,
Once a gentle walk is now a tottering fall
Once a strong determination is now a frailty,
Once a powerful memory is now a forgetful folly,
Once a force to reckon is now a powerless weakling,
Once a reservoir of ideas is now an empty lurking,
Once a cynosure of all eyes is now an eyesore,
Once an affable synergy is now a tough bore,
Years role out in spectacular speed,
Stealing the lovely charm indeed !
History is a fine study,
Teaching us to be savvy,
Alerting us to be awry,
Leading us to glory.
Revising may be a terrible bore,
Though it directs us to the core,
It transacts the past more and more,
Revitalising the present to the fore.
Revisiting the past is dreaded by all,
Recycling the waste is gaining a call,
Reusing the water is the newest ball,
Ensuing a spirited move really tall.
Revisions go ahead of all venues,
Promising supportive rescues
They bring out lucrative revenues,
Foretelling a cordial bien-venue
Meenas Poems 