Ties That Bind.

Three hours – seems like minutes –
come to term, as an exhausted
mother and new-born child
rest on in a deep nap.

The lactation flow saturates
and the seeping milk wakes
Maitiri up to nurse. The half
asleep Veda seeks the nipple
to receive the nourishment
she needs from the suckling breast.

Invincible for the invisibility,
this cordate union encouraged by the Light,
continues unsevered after birth;
the undeniable joy shared
among atheists and believers,
as the miracle of life belies science.

cry laugh. Poetry reason

He Being A Child.

My child cries

for reasons he knows not

he cries loud.

My child laughs

for reasons he knows not

he laughs loud.

His cry and laugh

do not claim any reason

he being a child.being a child

Poetry rose toys

The Child And The Nature.

The Child likes toys

loves to play with joy

he is a boy.

The child loves rose

likes to hold it close

a girl by choice.

extension. Poetry

I Am Proud—Being A Woman

I am a woman

proud of being one

as one who could  extend

the span of humanityprint1_zps2dac82df

one who could beget and bring

the offsprings of hers to the community

not stop with the evolution

take care in the distribution

the child being a produce

could be not a deduce

of mechanical or agricultural merely

a being full of life  and energy

a perspective far too grand

yet it prevails with a brand

the mankind as it is known in general

possesses tremendous potential

hone those into powerful skills

require a capacity power packed still

each woman is endowed with this frill

well, how to mould the produce is of interest?

depends on each woman’s ability put to a test

Am I not rightful in being proud?

I have given to society a little not in terms loud.

die mother Poetry poverty.

Seeks Alms

There is no food for the child

no clothes  enough for the child

stands bare bodied the little child

the hair lies dishevelled on the child

the eyes send a pain from the child

the thin  hands of the  poor child

hesitantly comes forward in steps  mild

extends her hand slowly to the passersby, poor child

pierces the heart with a stab though in a hide

then the girl  carrying a child

knocks at the car windows  for a while

those in the car drive her wild

wipes her tears with no  shy

walks back to make  another try

her mother is about to die

poor girl, she could not muster a pie.child begs

gracious Poetry

Gracious Unto Thou And To Thy Child!

The toddler is pampered

as her mother goes wayward

not otherwise but in her deal with a child

feeds her child now and then as often

goes round her with a spoonful

coaxes her to partake the entire

dances before as a cajole

fills the little one’s mouth in a jowl

the toddler knows now  the tricks

she plays truantly with a flow

hides herself in one place

naughty she turns  all at once

the mother becomes extensively scary

the girl goes topsy   in a second

while the mother turns crazy

the melodrama continues for days and years

let not the  years spoil the child

as she has to grow into a responsible adult in the go

the way you bring up your child

matters the most in her later life

discipline and  liberty are to be shown

not the one more than the other

proportion the two in a measure

let the combination be  balanced

as the more of one would ruin the child

or be that a less of one

could also destroy the nature of the child

care to be deployed with poise

the child would then blossom with grace

Gracious Unto thou and to thy mother-and-child-against-a-green-background-mary-cassattchild.

Poetry Pride

The Child

Birth be there
to wedded persons
a child.

Birth be there
to living together couple
a child.

Birth be there
by illicit relations
a child.

Birth be there
through estranged
a child.

For no fault on its own
goes through child-with-a-ball-vector-28192life in pride or humility
the child

age. pain. Poetry responsible tender

The Child Folds

The child with tired eyes

sits there with no choice

goes about in endless tries

folds the leaves in speed

knows not its end-use and need

the tenderness of the hand is lost indeed.

wrinkled the tiny fingers look

mangled they seem almost hooked

yet the tiny hands manipulate  without brook

with tears in the eyes  welling beedi_1

and pain in the face pricking

a meagre amount in the pocket filling

the innocent eight-year-old turns responsible.


The Cry and Smile

The child cries
for what she knows not
cries she all aloud
tears run down her cheeks
face turns scarlet
the mother tries to pacify her
feeds her with milk
makes noise with the rattle
holds her close to the bosom
the child cries even more
knowing not what to do
the mother breaks down
she whispers and sobs
looks the child perplexed
sits there silent for a time
crawls towards her mother
wipes the tears that flow
softly kisses her mom
with a broad smile as cries and smiles


The Womb

The womb they say
carries the child in a way
nurtures the baby all through the days
lets out a full-grown child in play
a lovely child in the fray
looks pretty and fresh all gay
as happiness spreads in full form
lightens the faces with great charm
the parents beam with pride in calm
the cries of congratulations echo in norms
that be the delight of begetting a new-born
the part the womb plays is of great chance.womb