THE SUN AND THE FLOWER AND LOVING CASTLES

These red flowers bloom with the sun’s burning rage,

They remain alive tucked within periphery of greens,

It brings me to think glimpses of events of last year,

Here is celebration of New Year in firmament of cheers,

Beneath are the warring and surviving zeal with landscape.

Spring with dry meadow, hot crust of the earth makes

Every green dry, yet life is not killed, two pigeons, together,

Move around meadow, and pick corn into hedge and grass,

Those hide corns strewn over dry land of cultivation,

With amorous stories those are still figuring out like

Magnets around crystalline wetness, waiting for rain in its

Season, two birds set off one sentiment of soft spring.

Para-metrical elongation creates labor that blooms

The eccentric pasture for living and connoisseur of loving,

When beautiful footsteps move to cross the land

For home that is not abettor of leaving, but waiting for

Answer from her, that she may try to bridge loving castles.

Shadow, grass blades and tree-trunk support walking through. 

EVERY NIGHT BECOMES NIGHTMARE TO ME.

Every attempt in life has been destroyed by faulty decision,

Plans denied by nearest and dearest ones, as if all my attempts

Are not fit to the whims of their mindwear, those need to

Pass through their mentor section that also vagabonds do

Things of semi-notorious means of waving hands of acting

In more cramping and wired way to life performance they

Do act as their best way of thinking and impacting like

Fireflies splintering short life dancing around that fire,

Burning alongside, even though they has passed through

University education, yet they are galvanized to thinking  

Imperfect monitoring, making cracks in my whole plan,

And lastly I have to abandon it on ground that I am the fool.  

Indefinite way of other meaning of spending time with

Failed attempts like enzyme of rotten mangoes, acting

With abandoned technique, once, more than once

They travel like dignified creatures upon the earth,

Those are wonders and winners of their act, without

Having training from renowned thinkers, and denying them

Instead, taking no measure to refresh their knowledge

They travel with elated attitude upholding all acts

They perform as their victory over old fools who are

Nothing but breathless setting of confusion and illusion,

They very easily drop out old values like spilled water

That was once their life line, and they forget it deliberately.

Every night is nightmare to me; I have to swim over this ridiculous pond,

With the hope that green is there, bird is there, home is there.

THESE CHILDREN ARE GROWING IN SILVER SUNLIGHT

Autumn sun-rays play in the hill region,

Morning spreads pleasing care around,

Lightly move little children in the village,

They are enjoying in wind of soft harmony,

Birds and greens mingle in sweet singing,

Climbing papaya tree is magic with balance,

For food of the day, the boy tries to pluck

Papaya while others are looking at him.

At that time we are walking along there

Seeking some desperation to find life,

It is another sojourn over our living pattern,

We are delighted in the boy’s turn

On childhood honeying with the nature,

It becomes fairy tale in bold and free

Spin of the boy’s attempt to go forward,

These children are growing in silver sunlight.