Details |
Jessy David Poem
Rain may flood the street
But homewards she has to stride
Kids and kitchen waiting.
Copyright © Jessy David | Year Posted 2014
|
Details |
Jessy David Poem
The morning was calm and cool
After a rainy monsoon night
The wind was playing with everything it can put hands upon
Pushing down and thrashing, making a scene so bizarre
Pretending like the world cup players in the grounds of Brazil
In this third floor apartment at Kochi, India.
Got up a little late than usual
Walked straight to the front door
To catch hold of the morning newspaper
As if something will happen to the world
If it is not read on time.
On opening the front door
Off went the healthy mood as something unpleasant awaited there.
The two big waste buckets, our neighbor’s,
Lying side turned down, wide open, touching our door.
An ugly sight seen sometimes,
Today the naughty monsoon wind had done it.
No! This is something a lady hates to see right in front of the door
Especially in a tranquil morning, like today’s.
Blue and clear was the view of the sky
But clouds grey and dark gathered in my mind
Before late it might pour
I feared much.
Let the neighbor come, will put an end to this
Lapses no more I’ll bear, the last one will be today
Sat on the sofa waiting
For somebody to appear.
Moments passed and neighbor’s door opened
The youngest of the family came out.
Placing the first step out, turned to me with a lovely smile
As though a bud is slowly turning into full bloom
Then came a “Hm.." from the little dear
To attract my attention
“Good Morning!’’ What else can I say?
He is our dear Thejus who came to the world
Only just three years before.
Thejus came to our door, was still in his nightwear
Presented me with a more hearty smile.
Oh! The boy's sparkling eyes noticed something unusual about the buckets
Of which of course had a little doubt
Who the owner really is.
Asked with the innocence only a three year old can own
“This is mine, no?”.”Yes”
“Shall I take it and place it there?” in the sweetest tone of a toddler.
Don’t know to where my ill feelings
Those got sedimented in the serene morning
Flew away
Feeling ashamed by the little one’s magic touch.
Finishing off all the stains in my heart
More like a machine, pronounced a “Yeah”
The boy lifted the bins one by one, a little heavy for his age
Placed them in their position and didn't care to turn back
Started playing with his small bicycle
Leaving his grown-up neighbor to reflect over a verse from The Holy Bible,
"Verily I say unto you, Except ye be converted, and become as little children,
ye shall not enter into the kingdom of heaven".
Copyright © Jessy David | Year Posted 2014
|
Details |
Jessy David Poem
Have you seen little beautiful butterflies?
All yellow, yellow and red, and all red ones
Bet you can't say who among them the prettiest is.
Eyes are bright buttons like, bows on hair big and small,
A cute little snack bag on one petite shoulder
Clinging to the parent’s or grandparent’s hands.
One of them at times seems to be a little less cheery with
One or two drops on rosy red cheeks
Dear Mamma hugging and consoling
Daddy cool pretending as not seen it.
See them running round and round the pillar
Singing the good old ‘Hickory Dickory Dock’
Sometimes ‘Asha Busha’ and one will fall down
As they wait for the school van to come
Adding more shine to the porch than the gleaming morning sun
Is there any better blessing we can ask for than these little chatterboxes?
Fill your hearts today with this daybreak scene
For tomorrow the children will grow up, lose all their innocence
Become young men and women and far away they will go,
It’ll be even beyond Mars, today’s most distant place
Therefore don’t miss it today!
Copyright © Jessy David | Year Posted 2014
|