Poems

Rain: Am I a Catastrophe?

        Remember a time you enjoyed rain – it merrily coming from a distant, bringing the smell of sand; trees dancing to its beat, kids escaping from their mother’s clutch; the bonding we feel with nature. I sometimes ask myself: When did we miss this? Today, in the backdrop of floods, land-slides, and other disasters, when rain comes, all I see is fear looming in each and every eyes; wondering of floods, abandoned homes, dear ones lost, …. Where did we went wrong? Do we want to instill the same fear for the generations to come? So, this is my brick! Welcome all.

        Provided is the same as an image of my notebook. (Will add in html later, I am sorry).

Let the rain kiss you. Let the rain beat upon your head with silver liquid drops. Let the rain sing you a lullaby. --Langston Hughes

The Wolf and Her

Stoic was she, with a gentle smile,
faced the storm, without complaint;
As enemies they met and stayed,
but with two hearts for no hate.

           Knowing he, the Wolf, may kill her smile,
           the Nature then shall lose her grace,
           for enough is enough for the pain she had;
           but parting for him is too hard to bear.

                 Yet he ran in the woods, deeper and deeper,
                 still with a heart for no hate,
                 and deeper and deeper, to save her smile!

My Little Girl Forever

I know that you miss me dearly,
and will hold that little pique,
for at odds with your prayer,
I had to leave you forever.

     But know this for sure, when
     my angel called me to heaven,
     I told, “I will miss My Little Girl,
     and want her smile forever”.

           So promised me a tiny window,
           to send my blessings and wish
           for a great life, despite all odds,
           to see my girl regaining her joy,
           and rejoice in her smile, all day.

                     Today I’m proud of your smile,
                     and with that my heart smile;
                     I want that forever;
                     My Little Girl Forever . . .

Soul

The Moon smiles bright as if,
she finds a truth as is,
for at nights souls all raw she sees,
that the Soul in his art
is none but his soul apart!

The Best of All

Though the wind carries his raft afar,
times he sail back to a view of shore,
to see if his dear still awaits there;
For whom she waits he doubts, and
so seem the Gods of sea and land.

     Hath not a courage to go near her,
     for he knows well of his fragile raft
     and she deserves the best of all;
     With a sinking heart he oft wish,
     let her find a good ship or yacht
     to see the wonders of sea and land.

           Yet may curse the day she long gone,
           for his sail to the shore all ends then,
           and shall give wind his oar and way;
           But for sure he never complaints,
           for he knows of his fragile raft
           and she deserves the best of all!