Child Of The Earth[P]

The still even’g ends its noise to gaze,
The show of sky, pulling its mask of white,
And moon is in heights, with silky blaze,
Lit up the sky, silvery and bright.

In that shady grove of pleasant dusk,
All at outdoors, sat on hay and husk,
Leaning their ears unto songs of trees,
Feels the gliding grace of utmost piece.

A little boy then asks his mother to say:
“Why not to city than here to stay,
And why to plough this land so moor,
Rather in fancy land, where money is to cure.”

The mother kissing him and began to say:
We sons of earth work hard up to brim,
And floats on the bliss of ocean worth,
Unlike of rich dwellers so neat and trim,
Heaping money with fear of premature death.”

Thus said the mother,
Running her fingers into his hair,
And his thoughts on land with longing stare,
He delve deep into philosophy like so,
Leaving to lord the way to show.

Life And The Dawn[P]

The sky does its bath in the dawn,
As moon snored for rest in the day,
And the sun ran unto endless lawn,
Stretching his mighty plumage of ray.

The soothing air kissed all the way,
With quenchy songs of cuckoo that follows,
Drenching with joy the peacock sway,
To the rhythmic tunes of chirping swallows.

The misted flower rustles the heart of bee,
Swings and swings to ballad of her lover,
As the pleasure and glee take their flee,
With roars of thunder and haily shower.

The ghastly scene of haunted beasts,
And ruthless killings of many pretty blooms,
Is like cowardice that fill our chests,
Graving confidence in the clay of glooms.

Soon the sun dazzles to cure these poor,
Melting the hails as bold in us that do,
And this in turn our turn to bliss with ease,
Or mess up life with gloom that freeze.

Never Feel Orphaned - Never Again[P]

Dusty wind rushing, gushing hard his blow,
Spilling out sulky heat, the pulpy sun glow,
Through the motor stunk, the stuffed lane row,
Into the murky snug, where life gaze sorrow.

Resting on the roof, his tiring eyes droop,
As chinks in his little life, does his mind swoop:

No Lap to sleep and bent back to leap,
Nor a mercy heart that loves him deep,
No soul to play with, to pump his bliss,
Nor a loving soul that hug him to kiss.

His little life crackled thus in a stony fate,
That plunged his arms away from the Slate.

Thoughts thus rustled him out of his doze,
As sudden a stirring thought does its rose.
Holding his Breath, the little lad yells:

“Oh dude, never feel orphaned, never again,
This earth so dear, laid you in her lap,
With you always, in your beautiful nap,
The cool breeze waft, kissing you soft,
Hugging you sweet, she swung you aloft,
Black lovely cloud drizzled you her Love,
As you play merry, with her colored bow.

Born to her, Mother Nature loves you so deep,
So never feel orphaned even when you sleep.”

His heart bore mettle, grew him into the great,
For had his chance, to checkmate his stony fate.

Mettle After The Bond[P]

Ice, ice, ice for a little price,
Ice, ice, ice for a little price,
Crackled a voice in bitter spice,
As little a hope stares from his eyes.

Round and round, he strolls around,
As dark of dusk on him surround,
Little after soon again he croon,
With glitter in his eyes to see its boon.

Tickle after he hear a longing in his ears,
Cries of hunger from his love of the years.

Towards the store his brittle legs stagger,
As his two paisa earn him bread of meager.

Step after step he hoped into his nest,
To find ghastly scene that squeezed his chest.

Lay on the floor his beloved one snore,
Still and calm as a pebble on the shore.

Drips from deep his tears doth seep,
So loud as a thunder doth he weep.

Time ran on, on its legs and core,
As spirit of mettle doth his heart bore,
Mind and his soul ran so high and high,
As like the wings of wet bird doth fly.