Morning Tea

Revolting wake to a screeching hark,

Snapping brain to a jerking start

Guilty promise of a late-night lark

Rebelling mutiny of every body part!

Tempting call of the bed most alluring

Tasting mint with the ritual brushing

Nervous tingle of a splash refreshing

Forcing a fight to a denied sleeping.

First pangs of a fasting belly

Set on chasing time really

Hurtling towards the sweet jelly

All that's needed is the cup only.

Warming the cockles of my heart so deep

Ripping gently apart my brain from sleep

Setting me ready for promises to keep

Rigging me right for the ascent so steep.

Sun is magical for all green tree

So is nectar for the working bee

Tell me, without you, where would I be?

Oh dear, Blessed be the morning tea!

A Lofted Catch

The world looks at,

Not the one with the bat,

Not the ten with the stare,

Only Destiny's trust with the ball's care.

The lights shine on,

It's lonely in the middle,

It's only me out there,

The crushing weight of the collective stare.

The ball went high,

On its flight to sky,

On its wings of hope,

Till gravity decided to pull at its rope.

The ball turned back,

I followed its track,

I became its destiny,

The tryst set my heart on a pounding mutiny.

The catch was a gift-

Why did I shift?

What did I care?

The easiest task gives the greatest scare!

A Classroom Guilt

I sit lonely among my friends,

The soothing drone of His voice

Engulfs the class in a haze 

Of misty calm and balmy lull.

A familiar consciousness this,

Of body here and mind where!

Yawning gap most unfathomable 

Betwixt ought-to lessons 

And want-to thoughts.

Hold it there, I wont fight thee.

Charged with guilt anxious

Pregnant with colours delicious

My brain paints on the canvas

Of the world most spacious.

Running on ridges,

Plunging from precipices,

Rafting rivers, caving caverns;

The sun is my torch,

A purse full of stars, 

I am Wanderlust Extraordinaire.

The mist breaks, class over?

Not yet, The Nerd Speaketh, oh!

Scraggy face, bright eyes,

Croaky voice, polished glasses,

Subtle doubt, Pertinent point;

Reverie ripped, reluctantly awake

I grope for a proper mask -

I nod for Him, honed stratagem,

My facade isn't transparent;

The Harp rewounded, sweet clouds return.

Catch me fantasizing,

Of a Venus seen somewhere.

A guilt within a guilt

Throbbing pulse of desire.

Eyes wide open I keep dreaming!

Matters most pressing fly in

From somewhere, Set me thinking

On paths I shall require,

Fantasy to Reality all in my dream

Class is over, now - Wakefulness' slipstream!

How do I praise Spring?

Teach me O Lord to praise Spring -

For neither Keats nor Byron am I;

Yet I feel as they might have felt,

Tell me if I flatter myself.

The gentle kiss of the morning sun

My cold skin 'tis teasing;

The stealthy sprouting of the green

Like your baby girl growing.

The bite of the night though not over,

Brings with it the soothing promise

Of a warmer morning more benign,

Waiting rewards a healthier fleece.

This human body made to respond

To seasons, warmth and rain - 

A little lost in this concrete jungle

And to the cold boxes' feign.

The sweat and glory of summer,

The fear and romance of rains,

The fulfillment of autumn, 

Are nothing like spring's plays.

Festivities end, the new year comes,

Joy abounds, Hopes flare, 

Hearts leap, the spring in the steps;

Life swings on in the vernal fair.

Am I dreaming, is this praising?

Have I composed a poem?

Forgive me Lord, I know not how-

To express my feelings well!