Meenas PoemsI am not in the scene.
I am away from the event
both in mind and body.
I receive calls day in and day out.
The callers talk of the disastrous event.
I tell them that I was never involved.
I am disturbed by such calls.
My jaws pain and my ears ache.
What did I commit?.
The imagination goes beyond
rises from the ground
up it flies into the sky
a jolly good fly
it travels and speeds
hovering over all leads
colourful it strikes
beautiful I like
the “scene” is a what I mean
encompasses all the green
it incites and provokes
it ignites and invokes
the portrait is so grand
the sketch depicts a band
above each and every slide
the scenes move in a glide
the rose and the pansies
dance along with the daisies
the trees huge and large
magnify and enlarge
the child so cute and gay
keeps you at bay
the imperious mountains rise and fall
they enact a peculiar call
could be an invite into their arms
a peep into their charm
enters there the most mundane
the traffic not so sane
the vehicles ply up and down
a frenzy that keeps us all brown
a distraction it is all through
ties all of us in a fasten most true
that be the scene true in spirit
the rejoice of the senses in a b
it
the “scene ” has been brought to effect
feel I have illustrated them in words most perfect.
a sense
Meenas Poems 