The slow clip-clop of a horse,
As the milkman starts his rounds,
Long ago, of course,
Now other ways are found.
The clinking of the milk bottles,
Placed on the steps,
Of every house in roads and streets,
A sound I won't ever forget.
The milkman delivering in the mornings,
The sound of the slow clip-clop,
It was very soothing,
A shame it had to stop.
The world was changing,
Things were being mechanised.
All was rearranging,
Before our eyes.
Speed took preference
Over the slower pace.
The poor horse had its day,
And was out of the rat race,
Go! Go! Go! until eventually you drop.
I believe in progress,
But avarice not.
I may be idealistic,
If so, I don't care.
I agree with W H Davies,
We should have time to stand and stare.
Categories:
mechanised, 10th grade,
Form: Rhyme
Let's b honest you know I can fly,
I flew so many times
and so far places.
will be flying more too
although not all by myself.
I would if I could
but you see I got no wings
from time to time
over and again
I had to borrow
from the mechanised bird
in the past.
About flying in future, I will tell you
when I can time travel too.
For now I am trying to teleport
away from you... :P (near to you ... )
-Ravi
Categories:
mechanised, destiny, flying, funny, humorous,
Form: Free verse
Motherland!
I won't leave you again to ruin,
The pagearity of my soul shall grace you.
Once I left you moulded black,
Now I won't leave you again to rot.
Let my words germinate in your palms,
In vain vanities have I made you vain,
Graceful paths have I crafted for you.
I won't leave you again to rust in vain.
Motherland, I remember your greener pasture.
If there is a fooled love in abyss,
Mine is a divinelove packaged in purity.
I remembered you Good mama, decorated with love,
Cultured in a embeamed embryo of sweetness;
Mechanised pretty star of paradised earth.
If I get locked away in the past,
Your bosom shall I look unto.
Outset of the puzzle of life, you made me.
Motherland, mother hope, mother trust,
Fertiled and honeyed gracefully beyond others.
Motivated at the peak of the wind,
Trees waving in an inspirational move,
Clapping grasses worshipping and praising
A love sweetened flowing in one channel.
Motherland, of a truth you are great and pure.
Here I was born and groomed,
I grew around these tables of peace
Sorrounded by spirited brothers and sisters.
I grew around these watered hope,
I won't leave you again, motherland.
Categories:
mechanised, africa,
Form: Hybronnet