Village Pond
Ponds paint greenish portraits in rural Indian landscape,
Docile duck rafts do dive-tricks, teasing whale-like buffaloes,
Salmon and tilapia tickle skaters and shrunk snails,
Tadpoles and fries from deadly algae and skaters escape...
Girls in petticoats and boys with no clothes, here, somersault,
Naughty ones among these push inside those don't know swimming,
Troop of youth, like villains, enter and exhibit pole-vault,
Women, like trained washers, busy themselves in cloth-washing...
Java plum trees, posing around willows, like green phantoms,
Shadow around, frightening the passersby, late evening,
Mangroves plowing the water make noises like ghost-groaning,
Bullfrogs to their mates seem sending love-memorandums...
Sun rays penetrating the dense leaves-embroidered branches,
Crack tracks of golden routes, as though connecting to sky-skirts,
Reflects, toward moon, like images on mirrors with clown-shirts,
Summon dark angels of dusk, to play about the ranches...
Do not get dried up amid severest of droughts, dear pond,
Or get swollen up, destructing lives, puffed up by the rains;
May lives in you and around, your healing touch ever gain,
And heaven and earth enjoy your perennial love bond...
19 December 2021
A STRAND (1044) Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Brian Strand
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