Poems by Annabelle Tarapor

A Judge’s Prayer

a poem by Annabelle Tarapor

He stood there, lost and trembling,
his eyes all red for want of sleep.
Murder on his hands, cold feet;
and I was the judge, upon that seat.

The man from Capri!
He stared at me, for mercy,
hoping that in his eyes I see
his regret, his fear, his misery.

That man from Capri!
His face was filled with a thousand emotions,
each one talked to me.

The man from Capri!
That prisoner and me
we were alike in many ways,
in time, you’ll see…

Yes, that man from Capri!
Why was it he not me,
to suffer pain and humility?
Should I set him free?

You, prisoner from Capri!
Why should you not be free?
Who am I to stop your dreams?
What makes you lesser than me?

Oh! man from Capri!
Can we switch identity?
Can you play judge, instead of me?
Can you see how hard it is, not to set you free?

But, prisoner from Capri!
You have done it again!
You have looted and slain,
I pardoned you once, but, never again!!

Oh man from Capri!
Not again, no more sympathy,
I have to look away
be tough, and say…

Oh, prisoner from Capri!
Today you will have to pay,
for all your sins and wickedness,
I too, pay a price, to bestow ‘justice’!!!

Oh people of Capri!
I did not set him free,
I will make him pay,
for what he has done;
killed a mother and her son!

Oh Justice, Sweet Justice,
help me always to see,
the right and wrong in everyone…
including that of me!!


a poem by Annabelle Tarapor

When I was a child, I had little sense;
Thought a pound was less than a single pence!
Nothing seemed as serious to me… hence,
did not worry, get anxious or tense.

I enjoyed that part very much,
No excitement, never a rush;
No expectations, not a clue,
Was it me or was it you?

No inhibitions, not at all,
if by chance, on the street you fall.
You make a friend anywhere
never noticing dark or fair.

Very innocent, or so true,
Loving many, hurting few.
Song and laughter mean so much
Warm and tender is your touch.

But then you have to grow one day…
be responsible, for work and play!
You have to choose your words to say…
You have to work to get your pay!

Then, you must be recognised,
as someone who is smart,
Knowledge is the most important part
of our lives; right from the very start!

Mothers tell us that we must be wise
Always tell the truth, never tell lies!
Be good to all, big or small…
You must eat well, to grow up tall.

Read good books, improve your looks,
Always hang your clothes on the hook!
Be careful where you go and what you do,
Make many friends, trust only a few!

Hence our lives take a drastic turn,
with so many things we have to learn!
When to smile and when to frown,
dress up in the city, be casual in the town!

That is why we can never be true:
We are just cons: me and you!
We find it hard to say a simple “No”,
Lest we hurt a friend ,who becomes a foe!

Why can’t we be who we want to?
Why can’t we say, as we must?
Why don’t we rely on our senses?
Why do we live within fences?

I’d like to grow up, to be a child:
Does this make sense to you?
I want to ride a rainbow with colours of red and blue.
And live among the fish, beneath the ocean blue!

I’d like to be a fairy, with multicoloured wings,
Or a pretty little robin who visits in the Spring.
I’d like to be a tiger, with stripes of yellow and black,
Or maybe, a strange ‘ol kangaroo, with his joey on his back!

These are just my fantasies: these are only dreams,
I know that I will have to face the World, and reality!
But when I’m lonely, when I’m blue,
My dreams are what carry me through…

For: you must have a dream, for it to come true,
You must have a plan for your life to be new:
Remember:knowledge is acquired by all of us,
But, ‘Wisdom’, just a few!!!


a poem by Annabelle Tarapor

What is fashion?
But a passion
To do ‘what is in or out?’
Everyone is out there,
Whether slim, smart or stout.

They wear just anything:
From a fish fin to a tiger skin,
A vegetable hat, a ponytail plait,
A waistcoat that is purple and blue
Orange hair ,jeans with a tear,
An earring pierced in the belly!
Do they honestly think that makes them mod?
I think they look, plain Silly!

To borrow an idea from someone else
And then to christen it ‘style’,
If only people realise the fact
That ‘fads’ only last a while…
Though it is fun to grow and follow the trend
To keep up the image and ‘look’;
But you must have the figure, the height and the vigour,
Along with a big bank book!
For, being ‘in fashion’ you need money…
So, think about it honey…
Have your own taste
Do not join ‘the race’
For, keeping the pace is not easy,
Instead be gracious, be confident and kind,
Let the fashions of the day, follow from behind

I don’t want to sound like a good ‘ol prude
My apologies to designers for being so rude,
At this point I must add, the thrill that I’ve had…
I’m in, Oh! such a playful mood!