Lining up the crowd moved in snail’s space.
The line grew in length and chase.
As the time passed on there was a trace
with people getting restless in their gaze
and their anger was visible in the face.
To dismay there was no move forward
as there was no clearance in the boulevard
so the situation turned awkward
leading to an unexpected tussle inward.
The morn turned to dusk as the need.
The stagnancy lingered without any lead.
Pulling the shutters paying no heed
the authorities walked out in speed
The gathering had to disperse in
deed!
Tag: move
A step taken
back or forward in the least.
would clear chaos.
It is a tradition on the move.
sticking to the values in a grove,
shunning the deviation in a blue,
passing on with a conservative flew,
implementing a decorum true,
gliding she crosses the avenue like a dew.
Her move is an enthusiasm lively.
With a charisma she proceeds gaily,
with a stamina she presides sternly.
with a discipline she conducts firmly,
with an energy she works untiringly,
taking her to the step of victory.
Tradition is not only in her attire specially.
It is found in her speech almost admiringly.
It is seen in her manners all the most specifically.
It is explicit in her character very distinctly.
It is visible in her demeanour most explicitly.
Tradition makes her look tallerexplicitly, than everyone else totally.
Up and down we go
What for we do not know?
Here and there we see
What for we do not know?
Right and left we move
What for we do not know?
Gain and loss we make
What for we do not know?
Earn and spend we do
What for we do not know?
Good and bad we commit
What for we do not know?
Love and hate we relate
What for we do not know?
Soft and sharp we speak
What for we do no know?
Kind and cruel we pose
What for we do not know?
Smile and weep we react
What for we do not know?
Happy and sad we be
What for we do not know?
Live and 
die we interpret
What for we do not know?
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.
Meenas Poems 