BRAVE CHILDREN

Picture Credit: Blue bell books.blogspot.short-story-slam-week-86

Kids are gentle in the morning light,

Being innocent, they enjoy every moment,

While playing, keeping mind pure as light,

In their endless searching and learning with

Elders who help them to train nascent minds

To know the truth to find plucking of apples

In the orchard is like gathering knowledge

About life and nature and bees, altogether,

Those hold history, story, poetry and

Thus they move into speeches of God’s men,

And know good persons, who say about truth,

About light, day and night thus created for

Distinguishing what it is good or evil

And they learn talking about good things.

They will sacrifice for others who love them.

THE PLAY

                                                Photo Credit: Blue Bell Books Twitter Club

There are two little children - one boy and one girl - both are of six years’ old, playing in a children’s park in a spring afternoon, some conversation is there between them from innocent talks, to know each other’s pretty minds:

“Where do you live?” says she, “Far away in that direction.  We go by auto-rickshaw.”

He points out little fingers towards east.

- “Who takes you here? My mother is there.” she points out to one beautiful lady sitting on a lawn- chair a little far away.

- “My grandpa comes with me.” says the little boy.

The little girl takes a glance at the old aged man with silvered hair, standing nearby.

- “Where is your mother?” She said,

- “My mother goes on a long duty, she cannot come. She will return home next day after four mornings.” He says.

By this time, mother of the girl calls her daughter and takes her away from the children’s park. The boy stands stoned with a glance on the way they have gone away from the park.

Every playing is sweet,

And everyone plays a part in it.

Parting away isn’t pardonable,

Flower shreds something

We have touched,

Perfume in deep sensation

Left behind by flower’s kindness,

A gift we receive with warmth of heart.

It reminds us a paradise

Where we feel warmth and kindness

And leave it with some

Sweet memory, the little boy perceives.

Short story slam week 39, the children's place, toys, games, puzzles, and cartoon books, TOY-SHOP

TOY-SHOP

I am not that boy

Who always wants to buy,

I am that boy

Who wants to bring

Smiling, again and

Again in the sense of

Joy, watching

Toy-selling shop,

To follow teacher’s

Saying, “Do not mess.”

I am that boy

Who always wants

To avoid lure

That comes ahead

Of every shadow

Of toy’s display,

Yet I want one toy

That has a story

That can say

Truth that is

Dramatic always.

Short story slam week 32: Unexpectedness

image credit: http://bluebellbooks.blogspot.in/

His mystic appearance is mystery again,

And wings appear preparedness very much,

Classic forbearance dominates edge of

Entertainment, without disgust or pity,

It tells something, scatters humor, and

Background is filled with argument of the unexpected.

When observance wane solitude,

Situation turns into merriment,

With signs and wonders of cosmic change,

Children love it to play with this outline of drawing.

This lends something believing love has no ending

With proceedings of creation that recreates it every time.

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.

LET ME LIVE ALONE

Let me live alone

I do not take your ordinance

I am very alone

I do feel to live separate from my wife

She is living elsewhere away from here.

I am living now in a mess.

I choose one bed in a dormitory,

I choose to live alone

I do not want to see comfort of my bed ,

Doors, windows, concrete ceiling,

Of my home, it is now like a past,

I am away from home to check more deterioration of my situation,.

I said once,  my home is yours

Home is for my children, I built it for them,

Yet they believe I am snatching those shelters.

This idea is fully false, I believe them and try to explain them. 

Nobody listens to my good words, I still love them all.

And they show arrogance towards me.

I do not tolerate dominance,

I do still take care of self,

You cannot put vehemence,

I will live at distance instead,

Beyond surveillance of your whims,

My bed is single and I am always single. 

PARENTS

Parents do feel proud from the shore of life

When they see children’s status goes high

Upon an important way, not infant strains, 

And these young people are adult and established.

Gracious parents feel worth and pride

At the melting of children in devotion and honor,

The feeling of love towards parents, with great vision,

And they are leading to deal a matured life separately.

Parents do gather experience when kids are grown,

Advancing slowly from their one years of age

To the age of aspirations, and move into domain

From childhood to have adult respiration, a sense of love.

Parents feel they are the idols of creation

When they find kids are grown in the participation,

To remove ills and pray for light, and merge

To the truth to live with, a genius path they perceive.