A Metaphor.

rose and lifeThe rose is beautiful

petals are soft  and wonderful

silky and shining  being an attraction

so  goes the general  description.


The rose is tender

protect it from any offender

held harsh crumbles and falls

could this be another call?


Life is beautiful

look at it with eyes wonderful

flaws turn into a glossy gleam

nothing  strikes the beam.


Life is tender

tempers and anger being the offenders

bridle the anger as much as you could

never try to speak rude .


Roses dance in the air

rose, red and blue in all

life blossoms in different hues

rose and red green and blue.


Not I sing a song of praise

nor I sit and watch it rise

rose and life seen together

professes a metaphorical refer.





An Urge

It is an urge

not in the verge

from the depth

grows in strength

ever  beautiful

looks wonderful

a love  to keep it fresh

green and lush

makes me over protective

I  am not a detective

do not mistake me as one

I like to nurture my passion

without any breaks and falls

well, that is my call.





A Fallen Tooth.

My little  girl calls me regularly

the day before  her  front tooth had falle

she would report each and every episode  daily

I should have listened to her passively

instead  questioned her  as how she looks  now

should  have stopped at that juncture

nay I did not refrain all the way

asked her  with a  mischievous twinkle

how she looks  with a big gap in front

“do you  look better or worse?”

her  sharp reply startled me  wholly

said she it is not better or worse as such

looks different as much .

seven-year-old-girl-happy-growing-up-and-fact-about-to-loose-last-EG45JG (1).jpg




Not A Version

Not a version

could be a reason

one with a fusion

at times of season

live I for no fun

go  with interests in tons

every thing scores not  high

so I go  not for the buy

I keep away with a shy

that be the version in all

lest it would predict a fall.




The Journey Of Life —Allegory.

The morning rise

to a tranquility

could never be anymore

as the roads turn busy

before the sun could peep.


The afternoon siesta

to a sleep

could never be anymore

as the roads remain busy

spite of the scorching sun.



The evening walk

to tone up the physic

could never be anymore

as the roads are still busy

spite of the partial darkness.


The night slumber

to a fantastic sleep

could never be anymore

as the roads  continue to be busy

overwhelming the stillness around.


Not knowing what to do

and where to go

as it could never be anymore

the roads of life teem all through

letting out not a break in the journey



The Restrictions All Around.

The mosquitoes bite me

I framed my windows with nets

the cockroaches hamper me

Everywhere I placed the trap sets

the lizards play around me

I placed antidotes  in  corners  and dents

the ants get into my sugar container with glee

I draw lines with a chalk all around

now the squirrels play havoc in a spree

know not how to restrict them in a round

they  eat up the fruits in the trees

build nests on windows and attic as found

stay I worried all the way

as I could fin no way

I have  closed my house absolutely

only sun could enter freely

no chance of wind blowing through

a kind of living in a cage  for necessity

with none to control  or  frighten me blue




Ode On Words

Eat up not your words

eat up your meals

go by your words

at the cost of any deal.


Words are meant to be kept

never in a way to be broken

the words that are kept

bring repute  as a token.


Honour your words at any cost

words are precious any way

easy to throw them out fast

hard to preserve them in a way.


Words are a religion as far as I know

a sanctity all the more

they are valuable  and shine with a glow

being a property  with a vow.





The Life Giver

The sun be in the sky

shines throughout with no shy

distance does not matter

nothing else does shatter

being so far away

has not deterred it anyway

it shines and shines

all through fine

a  lively beam of rays

come out unfazed

that be the strength of the sun

the light giver apart from fun.sun


A Woman Out Of Sense

The talk goes on and on  for decades

could be  true or false in a facade

I know not anything beyond  the core

that be of a business all the more

somewhat an exaggeration  in phases

a woman tells of her husband with pride

as if he is the greatest business tycoon on ride

she  has to entertain people who come to see him

being not one or two but scores of them as much

finds no time for other chores as such

all these of a man who is a small timer  not known

does a few transactions in money lending in phone

dwells in a small town all through the days

charges an interest heavier than usual

sits on the patio of the common  family house

shouts and screams in a voice with double throat

the wife being one a little out of sense totally

always speaks high  of herself and her family

exasperated I heard the same from one of my relatives

who reported the version with a pinch of salt

I  walked away with a disgust as hearing these is a fault

the way they spin the yarn for years together

provokes anger and anguish altogether stock-photo--girl-in-an-image-of-the-madwoman-of-the-zombie-for-a-holiday-halloween-87776257

the world is made of such people in a majority.




The Clock Chimes

The clock chimes

eight time it sounds

being the time

when everyone is bound

be it the morning

where there be a rush

so be it in the evening

could be a hush

the clock chimes all through

fails only when it is not in order

prompt and punctual all through

howard-miller-grandfather-clock-chimes-and-strikes-two-minutes-early-21315263 a call could be termed as a recorder.