A few poems

 

Grow out of my arms

 

Grow out of my arms – my son – my baby,

            Grow up a man well loved to be,

Go out into the arms of the wide-wide world

            Grow out of my arms – my son – my baby.

 

Stride ahead with firmness of step,

            Put forth your hand to aid and help,

Be it a friend, be it a foe,

            Jus’ remember – goodwill - it needs a hoe.

 

Take out the venom, put in the honey,

            Lay the sweet open, for all to see,

Water a plant, pick out a weed,

            Look to the sun – and place a seed.

 

When I could gather all of you to me,

            I knew – the day will come early,

When your eyes and mind are ready,

            To go out of my arms- my son – my baby.

 

 

Hurt not a feather

 

When you are stung

Sting not back

Hurt not a feather

Or widen a crack.

 

When you are slapped

Hit not back

Try out a balm

Soothe on like lac.

 

When fortune beats you

Slack not a sinew,

Mind - God is with you,

‘Cause you said not a ‘Boo’.

 

Mind your Language

 

A P and a Q

Brighten a day

Hold open the door,

Give another a say.

 

A civil word here,

A kudos-pat there

The place lights up,

And dark clouds beware.

 

Put U before I,

And reverse a Nay,

For a tap of your heels,

Could make the floor give way.

 

A sorry for a wrong,

Does not pinch you,

Check it out right away – do

And smile your way through!

 

 

When I hear the Anthem…

 

When a breeze rustles the tricolor
When all eyes look to the chakra
When the overture begins
My heart fills to the brim.

To attention I stand
But let the mind travel
Back to the glory that was
And to the Future in our hands.

Sentiments they may be,
Sentimental too,
Not wrong, not amiss, surely?
Don't you feel as I do?

As the last strains fade in the ear,
I stare - to burn away the tear,
Add to history I may or not
Blur or change it - I dare not.

Will my son feel for the homeland?
If that doth lie in my hand
He will shed a tear or two - be assured
For the country - and his son will, too!


The here and the now

 

Past is past - let

Bygones be bygones, avow,

See resting in your hands

The Here and the Now.

 

Unmade hay and unstruck iron,

Let not cloud the vision,

Spilt milk of a day gone by,

Is at best tomorrow’s lesson.

 

An unheard knock, a missed call,

Rattle – they will – every hour

On the morrow wake up wise,

To see the sun surely rise.

 

Clear the mind to prepare it

For Fortune’s future favour,

Tomorrow is another day – with it come

Many more Here’s and many more Now’s.


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i appreciate that you have some thoughts to share, and are taking the effort to do so.

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