The world had too much to give and the heart had too much to contain.
Perhaps that’s why ancestors created poetry.
Wednesday, December 7, 2011
My Birthday Gift
They all called, and called it my day
For me it was just another Tuesday
Cheerless, noiseless; lying in my grey
Yes, it was my twenty first birthday.
Be it a new friend, or the oldest pal
Few wrapped me in warm-blessing-shawl
Few wrote wishes on my Facebook wall
Few messaged smiles, laughter and lol
Few made promise to see me at The Mall
Few forgot to remember, Oh! That’s all.
Mother sent blessings direct from sky,
Holy being exalted from inner soul high
Bless and bliss enough, to make me fly
Cheerless, noiseless, but I, waiting for thy.
Gazing at phone, refreshing my email,
Trying to feel fragrance, in the wind that sail,
Looking at the way, as if anticipating rail
Finally day passed, hopeless, frozen in hail.
Locked up entire day, needing for some air,
Almost at midnight, I open the door-pair
Fragrance of roses, all here and there
“Oh My God!” She had wished in her own flair.
Big ope’d eyes; yes I had smiling eyes
A wind chime there with two hanging butterflies,
A red rose had she sent coupled with a pink
A white porcelain coffee cup, “Look how does she link!”
There are few things, not possible to pay,
A thanks from my heart, is all I have to say.
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