COLOURS OF LIFE : SONNET 36

Doesn't life adorn itself with hues to show

As it does grow to an ego-vested soul?

And say if you do not know this self glow

Belongs not to the spirit of the whole?

If paints of life by livers of the earth

In myriad notes of visions and, too, vagueness

Not carry facts real that pour down from birth --

All sketches vocal of Nature's genuineness?

Life is subjected to the Whole that owns,

Though lone all way through goes from fun to

fear --

All portray'd touches of emotional crayons

Deliver an image the life does bear.

And portraits of each distinct bloom and blot,

That after death of beings, some fade, some

fade not.

-- N. P. SAMAL

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KISS ME, PLEASE!

Woo-hoo...! Kisss you...u...u...u...??? Oh, I'm being frenzical !!! My slavering tongue is jerking fast And my quivering lips are pouting out With booms of kisses in the air -- Ummah...! Ummah...! Ummah...! Just yesterday, an okay got my promise. Today is the chance no way to miss. And ready is my basket with pecks, Lip-locks, French kisses, and other varieties... I'm also ready for the lizard kiss, And the kiss of the Spider man... And I'm sure I won't beg like Big B -- (Juma, chumma de de chumma...), This is my right to kiss I earn'd this week. I shall kiss like one Dhoom 2's Hritthik-Aash's, Although I envy Emraan's 'Murderous' thriller kiss... I'm ready with my balmy lips, Strawberry flavour'd, To be the biggest smoocher Of do hazaar chhabees... And I have hidden the cracks On my wintry lips To save from rashes My Valentine's softy cheeks... Well with flushed up teeth, With cleaned up tongue, With exotic ...

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THE RETURN : RHYME 100

The Return Rhyme 100 Infants gambol about their home With blooms and toys, But they return to mom's bosom For the real joys. Children frolic about the streams, In meads and hedges, But to their home they return for Their real flowerage. Youths do rush about crazy for World's whole treasure, But they return for real living To own life and career. Adults get sunk into the labour With dedication, But this's the return to raise well Their own children. The old trudge about the yard Of their nursing shed, But lastly they return for rest To their death bed. ©️ N P Samal

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