The Paint Brush
The painter took up his brush to paint
he picturized a valley cupped by mountains
numerous waterfalls were cascading down
ripples expanding and bubbles bursting all around
Sunrise is an invasion of light and shade
through the clump of trees and wild foliage
Inside it's dark but enlivening bird calls
cawing, chirping and screeching as if in alarm
A small hut at the brink of a rivulet
further downstream more sprouting concrete
black smoke billowing out of chimneys
a road connecting by cutting trees
the councillors and builders in round table
chalking out plans to have planned development
multistoried to cater to demand multiplying
dammed river to render water supplying
The paint in the brush dried up
It dipped by mistake in the teacup
this the absent-minded painter drank
and back to reality he shrank
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