Life Pulls Back

Life pulls back,

Not knowingly soul is a bow.

Never mind,

shall stretch back

not one, but two or more inches.

To shoot arrows forward.

But do not break me, the bow!

Congratulating Cricket

 

The game is so called gentleman’s

Battle in the middle of green is the beauty

Decreed that cricket would be played in a gentlemanly manner

Tourney is to attain the title World Championship

Of course competition is fiery

No matter what, game shall be the game with its scent and beauty

Let me congratulate Team Australia

For winning World Cricket Championship 2023

For classy display of the final game

That defeating shameless wrong doings throughout the tourney,

shocking blind, deaf and toothless game’s governing body

and its mockery in front of money vested bully

The winning may

restore and save the beauty in cricket

send many devils out

mark the end of International Cricketing Crooks

bring back gentlemen to

govern the International Cricket

Elasticity

Stretch, that stretches

Release the force, reshapes

But excessive force

that would worn,

Not elastic anymore... 

Young Son

 

It’s the same

dining table and chairs

where two of you were

in a competition

who would sit next to

mum or dad,

today those are empty and idle.

Wider shoulders, tall young

you, our little boy

following the big brother

to dive in the ocean

of knowledge

pick the pearl best.

My dear son

life is a journey

not a destination

compel to move

one point to another

forward and wise.

We know that very well

but, every meal we serve our self

your mum’s eyes are heavy

hope you are fine there.

Remember the goal and beyond,

wish you all success,

we have a dream,

dream to success!

Note:

An attempt to get into shoes of our very close family friends at time their young son flown away to attend his overseas college. They, dear, caring brother, sister and two young boys are very special to us, I have no words to describe their bond for years whatever season of our lives.  

Horizon

 

Far, very far

sky bends down, to kiss the ocean

Fatigue Sun at day end

paints there beautiful

I paddle, paddle with my pen

reaching there, ambitious

Singing birds fly over me

light and happy

Where are they heading?

Are they too

in search of the horizon...