Meenas PoemsRight in front
was a man with grunt
expressing a brunt.
Right at back
was a man in black
lying on slack.
Right on side
was a man on ride
going on stride.
Right on top
was a man standing atop
posing a stop
Right down below
was a man not shallow
nice to follow.
Red berries
on the ground for long
become dry and wrong
losing their song.
Red berries
gathered at once
look fresh and round
increasing their bound.
Right thing
at the right time
gets ahead with a chime
proposing a climb
Passion takes the front seat with much pride.
Making all others slide back in a hide.
It tries to embrace all the sides
while standing up like a guide.
It forces one to strictly abide
by releasing an emotional tide.
The writing patch renders a lovely glide
allowing a smooth ride.
The wordy expressions give a beautiful insight
by decking the experiences into a garland bright.
The narrations are sometimes light.
The explanations most times reach a height.
The descriptions open out a picturesque sight.
The authenticity is never a question right.
The imagination ascends above in the wings of flight.
On the whole writing is a passion not to be taken slight.
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?
It was a high-flying kite.
It glimmered in the sun-bright.
Carrying the col
ours red, blue and white,
It rose up and up to great heights.
The children cried in delight.
They were thrilled at the sight.
The kite enacted a great fight.
It rose up and up to great heights.
The cord that held it extended right.
It, in its elongation, got tight.
The kite faltered in its flight.
Yet, it rose up an up to great heights.
The cord knotted itself in a bite.
The knots closed up to a strangling plight.
The kite made a descent slight.
Alas! it fell down and down from great heights.
Man’s ascent has a tremendous 
insight.
He muscles and manipulates to reach atop alright.
His movement gets mulled at a point outright.
He tumbles down to the ground like the falling kite.
Meenas Poems 