Though I have least cared not to offend,
Thank you for being my friend!
Helping me, my ways to amend,
more than just to mend
Your eyes, with countless words as they shone,
whilst drawing me away from the vice-zone
Never have I felt euphoria and pain,
just as ‘sun thru’ the rain’
nor at the same time, melancholy and ire,
teaching me, these mixed feelings, are not to tire
Instead such experiences are golden,
and don’t come often!
Putting you through the most arduous passage,
only to see you assuage!
Having a pal as you is worth so much,
for I’ve become such
that I no longer covet the bounty,
but only the beauty!
A life so profligate,
would indeed be hollow and full of hate
without hotels rated at least a few stars
or a proud possessor of the world’s best cars!
But how long could this satiety,
persist to be a booty?
Without the blissful, protective dome,
of Home, Sweet Home.
O lovely home-maker;
The soap of joy she lathers,
Whilst the sinister fire she smothers.
It’s his goal, yet SHE ran,
For behind every man is a woman.
She may fondle, she may chide,
Only to be an eternal guide-
By the day she works harder and harder,
Just to prove none but ‘woman’ is the best manager!
To make the world better to live in
Is to redeem each and every sin;
To the millennium, many things we aspire
But we can do is perspire.
For man’s misdeeds have been on the increase.
When will it cease?
Why don’t we comprehend,
That good things would end
Causing debacles at many a level,
Contributing to our own farewell.
Should we not meliorate the earth,
And sustain His mirth?
Created with His mirth,
The various torrents on their birth,
Flowing down the valleys and leas:
Revealing tranquility and peace-
It is indeed out of reach
To proclaim the world’s second longest beach!
Our rich heritage – we may flaunt,
Without a speck of daunt!
Others can only sigh,
For we are the apple of everyone’s eye-
Even the cellular giant, Nokia.
O commemorate- it’s no longer Utopia!
The grand old building of Ripon,
Matching the blemishness of Nippon.
Yet the political bells are ringing,
Where there’s incessant mud-slinging;
If we were to forget ethos,
We would land in bathos,
Feeling we’re left in the lurch,
With our only resort, the church!
Come what may-
Will my charm for you ever cease? Nay!
Oh butterfly, Oh butterfly,
How, to the rules of nature, you comply,
Spreading your wings far and wide:
Each and every flower beside,
You are so sensuous
That losing sight of you is arduous.
May you be present everywhere
And not be seen, rare.
Carvings so intricate,
Many an emperor to placate.
Be it arduous:
Yet not impetuous,
The sculptor using his unique talent,
Over rocks and stones bent;
Making a monument, so beautiful,
The walls and ceilings, of sculptures-full.
Though not well acclaimed;
The sculptor goes on with his deed.
Praise him! Yes we must
Extol him sky-high. Just
Carving is what we say,
But do we know it? Nay!
To say “I love you”, I am sheepish,
Yet it does brandish;
Oh, what have I done, sometimes I wonder,
as my parents admonitions linger.
Have I sinned?
For this overwhelming gust of wind,
has vanquished even the divinity…
this quintessence of eternity!
I love you honey,
your smile could melt any worth of money;
I love you darling,
your touch erases my sorest moment with oh, so much healing;
I love you sugar,
none could ever be better;
I love you sweetheart,
never do I wanna stay apart!
Though she is gargantuous,
Not a soul would be as solicitous;
She is the giver of all.
But now, man is appalled,
For the beast within her has been unleashed;
But who is she, who was created with His mirth,
Yes, she is MOTHER EARTH.