Meenas PoemsSundays are never dull
as I have the day in full
I sit and stand then and there
I read and write when and where
I eat and drink as much as I can
I bathe and dry up without a ban
I sleep and dream many a time in the span
I lie in my bed under the big fan
that be how I spend the day
the day being none other than a Sunday.
The night watchman he is
say that he sits with eyes open
I have a one at home
who sits with half-closed eyes
starts to nod as the hours fly
snores loud as the midnight come
sleeps full as the wee hours descend
turns alert at the rise of dawn
stands cheerful and smart in the morn
Well! a duty bound officer in charge
pleased to have one with a fair charge
a figure in the watchman’s robe
a ploy to show off the house is secure
a note of vanity in me well explained.
Words in all
make up the big world
revolving like ball.
Words in full
turn things into unexpected terms
knocking everything dull.
Words within
words
give the inference a twist
piercing like sword.
Word by word
let out thoughts in part
initiating a nod.
Full has a lovely gloss.
So it is always a full toss.
Full leads across.
As it shows up in gross.
The flowers enchant in full bloom.
They instantly dispel gloom.
They look beautiful in a zoom.
Activating a fertile boom.
The nightingale sings in full-throated ease.
Releasing melody from the cluster of trees.
The voice glides through as if it is a breeze.
Capturing everyone with a solemn appease.
The full moon shines bright over the night.
Illuminating the darkness with a white light.
The full moon in the black sky is a glorious sight.
Enticing all with a charm bright.
Full size of anything is amazing.
The fullness is at times alarming.
Letting a feeling that is terrifying.
Endearing a crazy note that is mystifying.
Meenas Poems 