An Innocent Desire

She waits eagerly,

With her eyes growing wide,

Every passing hour,

Standing stationary,

On one place,

Like the statue of Liberty.

She waits eagerly,

With her beating faster,

And minutes passing quickly,

She prays,

"Please let him come quickly?"

She waits eagerly,

While she holds the folded note tightly,

Which she had preserved it so dearly,

From small income she earned diligently,

As a stewardess at the local Dhabba.

An ice cream cart arrives,

She jumps and squeals,

As her wait is over,

She rushes to him,

Before anyone arrives,

To snatch her precious delicacy.

The cart owner stares,

Down at her unkempt hair,

Worn out dress,

And her small figure,

His heart breaks,

As he realizes,

She is only five years old.

He offers her the best flavor,

With a smile,

He declines,

Her money.

She leaves,

Happy and Excited,

Towards a small tent,

Which is her home,

Where her toddler brother plays,

And unwell mom sleeps peacefully.

She offers her brother,

Her favorite delicacy,

Watches him devour,

The one she had desired.

Nature and it's fury

Nature's fury,

Boils slowly and sweltry,

While we harm her unassumingly,

Without any care for future that is arriving so quickly.

Nature's fury,

Is like lava hot and fiery,

Almost ever ready,

To burn everything in it's savagery.

Nature's fury,

Is killing us slowly,

By releasing gases that are deadly,

To punish us for mistakes caused by us intentionally.

Nature's fury,

Is burning us steadily,

Through forest fires that are wild and frequently,

Damaging lives innocent as well as guilty.

Nature's fury,

Will increase crazily,

With days passing by rapidly,

Unless we do something quickly.

Lost and Found

She lost time,

On random thoughts,

About life and moments,

She never cared about,

But found something precious,

Than the time lost,

Which was beautiful memories.

He worked hard,

Losing his energy,

And shedding his blood,

On building a life,

That he once wanted,

For his family and little kids.

She touched her wrinkled face,

That once was soft,

And glowed with good health,

But when her chirpy grandson,

Crawled into her lap,

She relived again,

Watching him smile.

His heart broke,

His love was lost,

He fell,

Only to raise up stronger,

Happier and Taller,

To face the world,

With new found energy.

As years passed by,

Life evolved,

Several spices went extinct,

While new spices came into life,

And the chain of life cycle restarted again.

You lose something,

Only to find something,

That is more valuable,

Priceless and sweet.

Little Red Riding Hood Revisited.

Little Red Riding Hood,
Walked alone through the wood,
Carrying basket full of food,
Baked for her darling Granny.

Unaware and Unassuming,
About the danger stalking,
In form of big grey wolf watching,
Her every single step.

Suddenly she turns around,
To see the wolf astound,
By her sudden halt,
Fearing his presence is now known.

Her eyes turn wide,
Not with fear and fright,
But with joy and delight,
As she paces closer to him.

The wolf's cold gaze,
Melts into warm stare,
Waiting to be cuddled,
By his favorite human.

She hugs him tight,
With all love she has,
While he tries to steal,
Some baked goodies in the basket.

The wolf is her pet,
Being away from her what he detest,
Hence he follows her,
Everywhere she goes.

Little Fawn and Her Adventures

Little fawn stood next to her mom,

Drinking the sight of her new surroundings,

That is peaceful and calm.

Suddenly a wasp appeared from nowhere,

Attracting little fawn's attention,

Who hasn't seen anything like that anywhere.

She peered carefully,

At every movement of the wasp,

Unaware that she had strayed away from her pack steadily.

The wasp disappeared into bush,

A lioness appeared instead of tiny wasp,

Looking scary and huge.

With eyes closed tight,

Little fawn screamed,

While she shivered in fright.

Suddenly herd of mumbling buffaloes arrived,

Seeing them, lioness ran away,

Leaving the little fawn relieved,

In safe custody of her Uncle Buffalo and his herd.

Dreams

Across few blocks,

Stands tall and colossal,

A building named The Royal,

Which is home to a girl with coffee colored locks,

Unassuming and Docile.

She watches out of her window,

Staring blankly at sky,

That is clear and sunny,

While she dreams on things to do,

If she had wings to fly.

She would soar up,

Away from the silly world,

That laughs at her every flaw and blunder,

And makes her feel want to give up,

On dreams she had carefully stitched.

She would spread,

Love and Joy,

To places ripped,

By war and misery,

Conflicts and poverty.

She would remove,

Fears and insecurity,

Engulfing everybody,

And instill in them hopes,

To fly high.

Weekday Blues

Every week, it's same old thing,

'Mondays bring no joy', we sing,

While Tuesdays ,Wednesdays and Thursdays seem bearable,

But during Friday evenings, our patience level seem negligible,

Waiting for the weekend to spring.