Vidya Pandarinath Poet Lyric

Little Things

Little things in right time  and place oft prance,
And ease the perplexed mind gone  so dumb;
May it be a  smooth smile, or a raised thumb,
Or a good word of solace to hope for chance


The best aid perhaps is tolerance and sympathy
As all the inner strength springs from firm trust
Of honest  and frank deeds, despite hard crust,
Rude  gestures, uncivil  pranks and cold apathy  
  

Roma was  such one woman of nature strange   
As would gauge every thing in her own odd way, 
Never seeing the truth beneath the visible cray
And  often grunting or screaming out of range    
 

Little things aye ruffled her inward turned mind  
Driving her to do the irate and uncouth in  recoil 
Thence she would be lost in all turmoil  and toil
Never  being able to imbibe or to trace and find


Life treats in its own ways,the beings bizarre
While Time heals and changes their sore soul
And sets them back on the trails of their goal;
But the tenacious few still with self are at war!


The panacea for the loathing is perhaps within;
As sugar sweetens the sour to a luscious taste,
The graceful  modesty ripens the spirit in haste
Much in  set order, and sans any combat to win.

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