Life is like a Box of Crayons

 

Life is a collection of drawings

You are the painter

would color with chosen colors

With the time

most preferred colors would finish afast

Leaving you a collection of unused crayons

because you did not like those much…

 

Whenever able

You would get another new pack,

color more pages

and many more, happily…

 

When you have decorated the other pages

eventually, you would have a collection of

crayons, colors that you did not like much

And maybe many leftover pages

unfortunately,

circumstance may compel you to color

those with what you have

though ones you did not prefer…

Probably,

that maybe for you, yourself.

Heavy Buds

 

It was like tiny, tiny flowers

decorated the twigs yesterday

become softy buds

enjoying  the morning sun

Busy dark clouds in a journey

Travel a fast, maybe a far

Covering the silky fabrics arrangements 

in the blue sky

I can hear, rising sea breeze far

Speeding wind come across the land 

Bringing down the dark blanket 

maybe heavy

Mango buds are hell bent

Being unable to stand the shower

Sad, looking down

Tiny, tiny buds dropped under the tree

The bark, with burls and looking strong

Bearing many branches, twigs and leaves

Is that soft, tiny nice smelling buds heavy?

I don’t know why, but mother nature might…

Royal Ants

 

Presence of wings

an ant is

the king or queen

of a colony

loyal

until they

become

winged ants...

Ruler’s Court Painter

 

Surrounded by many

colours and tools.

Though,

his color pallets

blessed with only a certain

set of colours.

Price in the Tag

 

Branded Price Tag

 

Awaiting

Though the last leaf fell off

Wish to see

fresh buds at twig ends,

turning leaves,

flowers and fragnance

Hopeful of

afresh seasons

to come

Bitter Nectar

 

Green open palm hand

May be more than five, fingers

Though many palm lines span

Would one hold, read the palm

 

Slender threadlike tendril stretch, 

twines around, 

The climber rise the creeping high

Softy stems vine reach up, once more

Lush green enjoy the breeze

 

Gleeful small yellow beauty high

Welcoming soft sun shine 

Is néctar of bitter gourd flower sweet too

Tell me buzzing bumbble bee…

Bubble

 

Hollow head

Traps 

Air of arrogance

Inflates

Rise, rise high

Bursts…

Unique Art

 

Who inscribed curvy lines, beautiful designs

on fingers

Modern day biometric scanners everywhere

seeks warmth finger impression

Fetch and fly away like a busy bee…

 

Who wrote a big story

in blue eyes

Life’s endless journey, many ports

iris scanners seeks warmth look

Seamless, that stings a copy too…

Fingerprint, iris eye

wonderfully crafted

Who or how regardless, admire

Holds many information

of unique human identity…

 

Though modern technology

able to capture and digitize 

the impression

I wonder what a huge data 

a little finger holds

Imagine what would be an eye…

 

Warmth, caring, energetic, 

amazing magic touch

at tip of fingers,

Blue eyes

that’s an adorable book

with many more pages yet to read

No comparisons,

but unique…