Nature clocking on the tick of spring,
I hear the cuckoo's sing,
Wind chimes jingling,
Birds chirping,
And, never before,
I yawned in reverie to the folklore...
Mama tells me,
How I cry on her lap,
How I feather my hands like wings,
How I crouch my little fingers in her palms...
She taps me, burps me,
And, I hum my own nuances of innocence.
As I see,
She took me to bed, brights those lamps
And, it rays her love like turquoise of gems.
The shine of it gleaming in my eyes,
Blue, red and green,
The moments turn into a picturesque...
As I lay,
I childishly wink, roll over the bed,
box punch as though I knew my skills then.
As mama sings a lullaby,
I murmur to those tunes,
Slowly my eyes close, calmness gripping me
like life of boon embracing this little life.
Those were the days,
Gone are those days,
And, it tempts
To live like a baby again...
Copyright © 11 Nov 2006, by Abhilash Hegde
All Rights Reserved
I hear the cuckoo's sing,
Wind chimes jingling,
Birds chirping,
And, never before,
I yawned in reverie to the folklore...
Mama tells me,
How I cry on her lap,
How I feather my hands like wings,
How I crouch my little fingers in her palms...
She taps me, burps me,
And, I hum my own nuances of innocence.
As I see,
She took me to bed, brights those lamps
And, it rays her love like turquoise of gems.
The shine of it gleaming in my eyes,
Blue, red and green,
The moments turn into a picturesque...
As I lay,
I childishly wink, roll over the bed,
box punch as though I knew my skills then.
As mama sings a lullaby,
I murmur to those tunes,
Slowly my eyes close, calmness gripping me
like life of boon embracing this little life.
Those were the days,
Gone are those days,
And, it tempts
To live like a baby again...
Copyright © 11 Nov 2006, by Abhilash Hegde
All Rights Reserved
2 comments:
STUNNING PIECE
Well, that poem is so natural! Very very true!
Keep up the good work.
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