Sitting tight on her chair
gazing at the moon in the sky
mumbling something to herself
she sat there for hours together
not going to her bed
with the night getting darker
and midnight fast approaching
she sat tight in her chair
unmoved by things around her
not knowing it is night or day
but staring at the moon in its shine.
How long she sat there one knows not?
For in the morn she continued so
passing on to the afternoon and then to dusk.
It is hapless to see her thus
like a stone totally set and totally fret.
Sadness can make living beings into stone
hard and impenetrable,sullen and serious.
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Meenas Poems 