SENSES FIVE : RHYME 21

God has given us eyes to see

Things open, things hidden,

In the sky, in the land, in the sea.

God has given us ears to hear

Things loud, things quiet,

Of the mouth, of the heart, of Nature.

God has given us nose to smell

Things fresh, things pure,

Of foods, of flowers, of all that heal.

God has given us tongue to taste

Things sweet, things real,

From own labour, by own quest.

God has given us skin to feel

Things soft, things caring,

Of love, of sympathy, of true will.

- 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 ...

THE CHILDREN OF GAZA

The Children Of Gaza A Blank Verse Thundering in the sky, then rain of missiles... See how they are fleeing arms outstretched Like the broken wings of storm-hit birds, And see their faces white with fear and hunger And hear their throbbing voice of pain and loss... Over their head, the sky's no kites, no clouds, But fire and fire amidst engulfing smoke, And they are running like the Napalm girl From Vietnam or standing frozen, like The standing boy from Nagasaki, before Their elders who are whispering in fear Or staring helpless in the gauge of Death... They are the hapless children caught in the war zone. They have no home, no school, no ground of freedom, But sole refugee camps and hospitals If marching death has spared them of their life. They hear not bedtime tales but sirens of death. For them,...

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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