Meenas PoemsThe peacock went up the hill in search of prey.
The peahen was preparing a broth in a pot of clay.
The peacock came dancing through the gateway.
Swinging this side and that side as if in a sway.
The peahen looked at the dance.
Excited it fell into a trance.
Waking up cast a glance.
Lo! the broth was burnt beyond chance.
Palpitations kept his heart beat in a race,
An unexplainable sorrow stole the grace,
An unbelievable tale
set the deface,
It was a hell to survive the blaze.
Nevertheless he had to get through it in a daze
There were additional frothing in the furnace,
Boiling over in an unexpected ablaze
Yet he had to put up with it in a phase.
It was all built up in a madness,
It was a texture of serious illness,
It massacred the veracity to a stillness,
Yet he had to face it with a boldness.
The heart fluttered high and low,
Casting a picture of a shadowy glow,
The performance was deadly slow,
Oh! the extension was halted with a severe blow.
It is a story of a loving pal,
He fell a prey to a rude call,
Oh! it was a terrible fall,
Lo! he breathed his last in a drawl.
Meenas Poems 