MAMA ON THE SWING : RHYME 26

Mama On The Swing

Mama on the swing, fresh and fair,

Swing her, swing her, full of care;

Swing her, swing her, full of care,

Swing her, swing her, up into the air;

Swing her, swing her, up into the air,

She'll see the skyline up over there;

She'll see the skyline up over there,

Blue sea, blue hills, lands plane n bare.

Mama on the swing, fresh and fair,

Swing her, swing her, full of care;

Swing her, swing her, full of care,

Swing her, swing her, up into the air;

Swing her, swing her, up into the air,

She'll see her uncle's home up over there;

Over there, She'll see her lovely aunt

Showing on the swing many a rare stunt.

Mama on the swing, fresh and fair,

Swing her, swing her, full of care;

Swing her, swing her, full of care,

Swing her, swing her, up into the air;

Up into the air, to the blue sky,

Merrily with fairies, on will she fly;

She'll fly on till she feels hungry,

Then, down to home for cakes yummy!!

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TELL ME NOT

Tell Me Not Tell me not I was once a lad; An open sky that I once had, That offered me untold delight And lit my spirit day and night. Remind me not the days and nights That told me tales and flew my kites; Many a game that I did play With heart and soul unleashed and gay. Jog not my memory I once sailed Alone for miles and there beheld On either side, along the inlet, Many a willow and flowery thicket. Bring me not back the rights all lost, All things that came by free of cost; Affection, love, all poured on me, Even when I was wilful, naughty. I'm in my time, leave me to suffer From weakness, bloating, bugs, whatever: Let me be in my dying yard; But tell not I was once a lad. -- N P Samal

I DO CRY : SONNET 59

I cry, I do cry breathless like a baby. You notice me or not but I do cry -- Whole drown'd in tears -- be it night or day it be -- No care if you find me absurd and wry. But I can't be unfair to cry, or vague If crying can protect me from strokes of death That nothing else on earth can, though I beg With my bowl'd palms held heavenward in good faith. Yes, I do cry (Whoe’er on earth will not With the betrayer's dagger stabb'd in heart?), But know my tears will flow all through the drought And grow new plants of love ere life does part. Maybe to kill the fatal pain the heart bears, Come out generously life-giving tears. -- N. P. SAMAL

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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