U gujarna ab raaste pe badla badla sa lagta hai
Wo najariyan logo ka ab kuch kehta hua rahta hai
Pata nahi kuy ab rishtedar ijjat dene lage hai
Wo dost jo yaad tak nahi krte the aaj haal samachar aur sahuliat puchne lage hai
Wo karibi jo pata nahi kharab waqt me lupt ho gaye the aaj fir karib ho gaye hai
Wo samaaj jo haste the pata nahi ab haskar dusro ki baatein karne lag gaye hai!!
Karwa sach yah hai ki in sabke badlaav ke piche hai wah chij jise log kai nam se pukarte hai
Kabhi wah dhan, to kabhi paisa, to kabhi rupaye, kabhi sampati to kabhi daulat se jante hai
Naya rang aaya zindagi mein jab se maal-o-daulat mili
Har chera muskurata hai, har aankh lage hai mili-juli!!
Par socho zara, jo apno se juda ho gaye the kabhi
Woh kya sach mein apne hain ya sirf banaye hue sabhi
Samay ka chakkar aisa hai, kal jo tha woh kal nahi
Dhan ka mooh kala hai, pyar se badi koi pal nahi!!
Karwa sach to yah v hai janab, bhago aap is ke piche
Par dekhna kahi apne na chut jaye aur kuch atut riste na tut jaye
Rishton ki jamapunji ko hatho se sareaam kar do
Khudgarz duniya ke najar mein apno ko anjaan kar do!!
Silence is golden
Making room for thoughts maiden
From the mine within
Yes, it eases much burden
And shows the power within
Chatter is burden
It detains in common dene
Yes, talk taints the dean;
But silence, is the garden
That grows inventions within
My spiritual umber a-rose
Full in bloom, as in an erupt!
There was the a sweet scent of flora
Too… the frisk, of spring feeling fauna”
I viewed through that verdant screen
From my bough brushed tranquil dene
As all on the Easter time
golden daffodils silent bell ringing did,
in innocent pantomime."
© Joe Maverick 3/3/2013
SPRING MORNING
The Bluebells hail the morning sunrise
tears of dew grace stems of green,
the valley nestles in God’s franchise
foliage awakening across the dene,
here a spring morning reigns serene.
SPRING DAWN
Morning tide enhance sweetness of the songstress call
buoyant curlews in oceans of copious grass,
wave after wave shattering against dry stone wall,
spring dances to the rhythm of the weatherglass
obeying whimsical whims from the moor top pass.
SPRING VIEW
Song Thrush calls reveille
morning in infancy
penetrates the valley,
spring day of clemency
portrait of regency.
© Harry J Horsman 2012
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