Categories
Poetry

August evening rain

There’s this joy that comes with event of an evening rainfall

It brings life to the playground so the children make most if it

Also, it softens the days fatigue, putting mild and cozy air in the heat

The rain water serve as a natural bath, which washed garments and bodies

The children dance joyfully in it, forgetting their home works and worries

Even pets are not left behind, they wriggle through the multitude of players

And try to grip the cloths of their happy and carefree little masters,

The huts close by serve as the spectators arena for those who are rain sick

But here the children had all mastered the cold rains and her funny tricks

August rains bless the land, and grows the stream and river banks

In villages, the children find it an entertainment not to be missed!

Categories
Poetry

Musing: The Hills top

I stand at the top, savoring this freedom

Oh hear me, hear me sweet Freedom!

I see the happy white clouds sail away,

I see the black hawks circle above me,

I hear the sound of talking, of machines, of the wild, altogether!

I see mother Natures great painting tablet,

I see the town and her gay hustle bustle

Roof tops glittering, hundreds or more,

Across the plains, solitary roofs, grouped roofs,

Perfect mix of greeny hues beside them, patches of black,

And dots of silver, shining in the hot sun, riding fast away,

Cockcroaching through the cover of tree leaves below

Blowing smoke up the hill which fade off with the wind,

I see the smooth river, I reach out to touch it from the hill

It flowed in unison, running towards the hidden great rocks

Washing away falling tree logs and pulling lazy canoes along,

I see the tents of cattlemen generously sited at the forest lines

And sometimes, sometimes I thought I could smell their cooking

The hill top tells much of the world below,

But I am blessed with the feel of freedom it gave!