Meenas PoemsA pack and a sack
all on the shoulder’s back
she climbed up the hill high
looking around with a shy
reached the top in a minute
marched ahead with a salute
planted the flag on the soil
while the sun was at the boil
kissed the land with love
made a gentle bow
walked down with satisfaction
with the pack and sack
all on the shoulder’s back.
Pack the bags
pack the sack
walk in the track
set on your way
mind not the day
go all gay
if need stay
try a pray
ease out in a play
that could be in a say
a wellness in a way.
It was a few years back
we were going in a pack
up on a mountain which was black
there seemed to be cracks
as fissures were seen in the rack
that made efforts difficult to track
we strolled over there in a slack
munching the hot snack
staying there for an hour with a hack
hoping to get through the stack
but could not push
through with knack
so got down the hill intact
abandoning the try with exact.
It is packing up once again.
It is a periodical schedule all again.
A month here and a month there all again.
puts one to no profitable gain.
A long drive down the road,
in the Express Highway broad,
is pleasurable for not too often trod,
exhaustively tiring for a monthly slot.
Up in the air for half a day,
right from the morning ray,
sitting with a fastened belt all day,
p
ushes one to the edge of the bay.
Formalities at the port of departure,
leaves one in discomfiture,
Similar rituals at the arrival is a feature,
creating agony and exertion in a single capture.
The up and down movement is throbbing.
What for the mind starts probing?
Might be to clinch a fortune is the lobbying.
Alas! it is a meaningless expedition almost a robbing.
Wandering physically is a threat to me,
Moving from home is disagreeable to me,
Putting things in a bag is a distraction to me,
Exiting from the vibrancy of the house is impractical to me.
Well, that may be the case for my physical activity,
I get ahead in great acceleration with my mind in totality,
It travels through all spheres in fine dexterity,
Crossing countries and continents in high velocity.
Alighting on the wings of fantasy my mind flies,
Goes as far as the fourteenth century events in tries,
Gleefully transcends in the realm in short strides.
Galloping as fast as it could as likely as the horse rides.
Lying in comfort, I visualise the Great Barrier reef in its glory,
Sitting in the patio, I dream of the Alps in its beauty,
Walking around, I hear the London Bridge revealing its story,
Attending to my duties, my inward eyes capture the Himalayas in stability.
It might sound odd to most of you as far from reality,
You might term me mildly lunatic distanced from sensibility,
I might look a little peculiar figure leading away from credibility,
Well, that is me a lonely being very much against rationality.
Meenas Poems 