The table which hold the books
knows not to read.
The pen that writes for hours
lies dormant when not in use.
The machine that spins and makes yarn
turns rusty when not run.
The garden which is beautiful and lovely
loses its glamour when not tended.
The body which toils and endures
gets worn out with no care proper.
The attention focused and affection great
hail a smooth performance to the most
along with that comes an execution perfect.
There stands a house
lonely on the road
with a sprawling garden
and a lively orchard
all set in a greenery
exhibiting a tone od prosperity
with a swing in the front
and a slide in the back
where children throng
going in a move full of joy
climbing up and down
enjoying a great thrill
the house looks majestic
with an authoritative command
along with the choicest demand
a magnificence all very lovely
presenting an amazing look
that be the house I cherish
I like to have and live
as it delivers peace and harmony
altogether in a stroke
that be a wish long in my mind
hoping to get it fulfilled in time
Early in the morn
it being an early dawn
with the silence all around
and a freshness in the ground
with no sign of human sound
only the barking of dogs in a bound
sitting out in the garden
a place to unload the burden
talking to none but to oneself
being a rare exercise by itself
which he does with ease
making him free from any tease
rejuvenating his memory well
keeping him agile in every cell.
None would like to follow
but would be a sure allow
without hurdles in the flow.
Digging the garden
on a Sunday morning
found an urn
filled with things
that I dare not see.
Unearthing it with care
kept it under the shade
went on digging more
with the hope of finding still more
So went on with the work all through
eagerly looking into the pit true
and keeping the ears open wide
wanting to stop the work on side
when I hear a clang loud
I went on digging altogether
five hours went by in hot weather
but could find none other.
Exhausted sat with displeasure
forgetting about the treasure
that lay under the tree.
Slept for a while without glee
got up to find that most of my garden
has been tilted for once all by me
.With gratitude to the treasure lying idle
went back home with a solace great
that I have done a good work at the rate
that proved a reward of its own.
It was long long ago.
More than hundred years ago.
There lived a man called Hugo.
Hugo had lot of children.
He had a beautiful garden
where the family had lot of fun.
As the children were too many
he could not remember the names of any.
To call them he made gestures funny.
The guava tree stands solemnly grim with a heavy burden.
A whiff of air blows all of a sudden.
The treesdangle vigorously with fruits heavily laden.
The fall of little mangoes makes the heart sadden.
The ripe yellow guavas come down in dozens.
The mango and guava are a subtle reference
to the world’s impermanence.
It was playing in and around,
Jumped on the telephone line,
Lo! down fell the line.
Two others were up to hide and seek,
One hid under the roof in meek,
The other landed crashing on the top,
L0!The roof fell in a flop.
A little one entered the garden,
Pulled the plants in a style modern,
Out came the roots and stems,
Lo!The garden was damned.
The monkey family was into the house,
Leaving the main family to browse,
How to chase them out en mass?
Lo! the thought kept them engrossed.
Before they could disperse,
The entire household was in reverse,
How to resume it to original?
Oh! it would consume hours terminal!