Meenas PoemsThe birds cackle all around
calling for their mates in a round
making merry on the grass
pecking the insects in the trash
singing to themselves in glee
going behind the buzzing bee
they converge on a hedge high
exchanging gestures with a shy
they fly low and perch on a tree
their little ones safely be
fondly looking at them for a while
they leave their nests in style
going out to hunt for further more
an investment for them all the more .
The birds are up early today
squeaking and tweeting
making the back yard lively
pecking on the vegetables
munching the grains
and eating the left overs
that lay liberally in the yard.
They have a way of chirping.
A call to the others
comes with a sharp cackle.
A fear that rises up
evolves a hurried squeak.
There we find the difference.
Today it is one of mirth
reflecting a go together move
wherein I find a lot of them
flying low and moving in hops
having fun in my garden
a happy sight to see in the morn.
.
The bird cackle all day long.
why I know not?
Their chirping is not one of gay
Why is it so I know not?
What for they make noise so sad?
I think in length all the while.
Listening to them always made me cheerful
Buoyant would I go with their songs
Humming with them all through the intervals
ans watching them in glee every time I see.
They are an inspiration to me all along
as I see them to be one with them in a belong.
The cackling continues more with a tinge of sadness.
i go in and out to find what went wrong.
getting no clue from
their movements
retreat inside with a terrible alarm.
Confused and clueless I sit in a daze
not ever finding the cause of the mirthless cackle.
Meenas Poems 