MEENA MISHRA
AN ODE TO MOTHER EARTH
Let her swab the mirror again and
again,
Until her mislaid youth she can
gain.
No amount of swabbing seems to
work,
It only adds to her escalating
pain.
She is flabbergasted as to how is
it possible.
No wonder she is completely
inconsolable.
Wailing and crying at the top of
her voice,
But no one can hear her, due to the
deafening noise.
She thinks it’s a nightmare,
Her wrinkled face and grey hair.
Till yesterday it wasn’t there.
Oh God! So unexpected! Is this
fair?
Her appeal, her exquisiteness her
splendour and grace,
Millions of people craved for her
embrace.
But today she has turned hideous
and ragged
Swabbing the mirror again and
again.
Fully determined is she to clean
it,
Until her mislaid youth she can
gain.
Anxiety, strife, struggle, war, and
pollution,
Are her problems without any
solution?
Arise her darling offspring,
respond to her clarion call.
Get united and take a resolution.
Of swabbing the dirt from her
mirror,
Till it shows Mother Earth her old reflection
THE SUN KISSED FACE
She knew she was a bit late.
But under the influence of Ishtar,
She managed to make some time.
To catch-up with him,
Even though he had reached his
prime.
He articulated his deep anger for a
while,
Then mellowed down to wear a smile.
Stretching her hands towards him,
She tried to match-up with his
warmth.
Ego, hurt, jealousy and pride,
Decided to quit them,
Taking an immediate flight.
Their heart beats increased,
And made his fury cease.
On meeting of the eyes, breathing
increased.
The crawling time decided to
freeze.
What a golden opportunity!
How could he miss!
Apollo took her in a tight embrace.
And rewarded her with his warmest
kiss.
His adrenalin began to race.
Looking at her dazzling sun kissed
face.
WAITING FOR THE UNEXPLAINED
Twelve hours of incessant rain,
Was completely disconcerting my
brain.
First I contemplated I would take
shelter,
Instead of going helter-skelter.
Thus I visited a friend's house,
Unaware of the approaching rouse.
How fully soaked was I and
shivering!
The passersby were also quivering.
On reaching the destination, I rung
the bell,
But all my efforts were going to
hell.
There was neither a sound nor any
movement,
In my condition, there was no
improvement.
Feeling disillusioned, I sat at the
door step,
chewing over my next step.
Heaven knows what was my mental
framework;
Was I waiting for the unexplained
to work?
MEENA MISHRA
MEENA
MISHRA is
an award winning author , poet, short-story writer, social worker ,
editor and an educator . Her poems,
stories and book-reviews have been published in international journals and
magazines. She is recipient of several prestigious awards viz poetry writing, story writing, essay writing
,elocution, debate, singing, best magazine, best class teacher, best speaker
and many more. She has also received the Principal’s Award and Agnitia, for
outstanding contribution in the field of education. She has written a novel “No, I Don’t Love
You” for creating awareness amongst the youth against online chatting. She is
an International Coordinator and leads the
British Council activities in her school. She is
a dedicated teacher, teaching English, at Dr. S. Radhakrishnan
International School (Malad), Mumbai. She can be reached at
meenamishra2003@gmail.com.
No comments :
Post a Comment