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thoughts

Busy


Having a lot of time
at my disposal
all these years
and had been never busy
all through my life
and wonder when
people say that
they are busy

Busy is not in my lexicon
as twenty-four full hours
are in my hand all the day
leaving ten hours for sleep
personal necessity
there is full fourteen hours
at our disposal. enabling
a performance in full bright.busy

Busy,the word
antagonises me
making excuses in its guise
hiding behind it
when not able to face
while actually the busy man
would be snoring in his bed
or else watching Tv

Well that is busy
in a way yes
keeping one occupied .
is busy to the meaning
fussing over it
while the modern gadgets
iPad and smartphones
add to the preoccupation
making ” busy” most prerogative.

Categories
Actions Beauty Experience Lesson Life mind stone Story thoughts True turmoil

La Belle Dame Sans Expression


She lies in the bed with eyes wide open.

She lies there still but not for fun.

She lies motionless for hours in the run.

 

The Sun’s rays falls sharply on her eyes.

She lies frozen like a solid ice.

Is she real or a guise?

 

The noise around her is loud.

She lies undisturbed by the cloud.

She belies the spirit of the surround.

 

The day fades to a starry night.

She lies almost tight.

She presents an alarming sight.

 

The night sets in silently.

She makes no move relevantly.

Her posture calls for action immediately.

 

She rises from her bed in a sudden.

Smothers her dress of its crampled trend.

Walks up the aisle with hair done.

 

She leans over the rails.

She looks at the  night’s trails.

She fathoms  the dark sail.

 

She watches the vessel move.

She shuts her eyes in a disapprove.

Alas! her soul is entrapped in the groove.

 

 

 

 

 

Categories
Actions Evolution Experience fatigue Lesson silence Story thoughts True turmoil

A Child Is A Child.


I observe in silence,

I hear in magnitude,

I see in-depth,

That is what I can do.

A child begins her day,

Setting aside everything gay,

Pushing back all her play,

Switching on to the rigorous fray.

 

She gets ready in a hurry,

Breaks her fast in a flurry,

Casting her likes in a bury,

She walks up in a slurry.

 

Still sleep lingers in her eyes,

As she opens her reader to a size,

Pouring over the book in a guise,

She follows the teacher with a despise.

 

From school she comes home,

Falls asleep in her cosy bedroom,

The little girl finds no time to bloom,

Eventually she has to face the doom.