Fun, Humour

MY IMAGE
(Dedicated to B. M. Atsen)
(June, 2007.)
Looking into a silver glass before me,
Something looking exactly like on to me,
“You mean exactly like you?”
“Yes, in every respect.”
.
“How did you get there?” I asked,
Looking me straight in the eyes
It repeated my sayings.
“You mean it spake?”
“Yes, at the same time I spake.”
.
Can it come out of there? You may ask.
If only magical powers I had,
Removing it a problem won’t be…
Then – “what are you my identical one?”
-B. M. Atsen



FUNNY RAINSTORM
(27th June, 2007.)
The funny raindrops.

Beating my dusty roof,
Knocking my door proof.
It was very funny!
.
Such a watery day,
The day indeed rainy.
.
The blowing wind sway,
Banging its window way
And making me say;
.
“Destroy not my window,
Or I hit you with pillow!”
.
And – the heavy rain stops.
-B. M. Atsen


BUT…
(March, 2007.)
But what?
He is very kind and good,
Soft hearted and gentle,
Patient and tolerant.
But…
.
But why?
Because he was offended,
He was made angry,
So he did what he did.
But…
.
But when?
On the day of temptation,
The hour of trial,
The minute of test.
But…
.
But where?
In the town of trouble,
The city of danger,
The spot of sorrows.
But…
.
But who?
A man holding a book,
The book containing a poem,
The poem titled;
But…
-B. M. Atsen




JUST A CHILD (Dedicated to little Angel)
(May, 2007.)
She came to plateau,
Leaving her own ghetto;
“A copper?” Don’t worry…
Just a child.
.
In plateau, in Kuru;
“Is she a guru?”
Don’t worry …
Just a child.
.
She learns very slowly,
Though she wants to grow lowly;
Don’t worry…
Just a child.
.
She is very humble,
Though she makes trouble;
Don’t worry…
Just a child.
.
She wears her crown,
Even when it’s brown;
Don’t worry…
Just a child.
.
She said, “I’m healthy,
That’s why I’m dirty;”
Don’t worry…
Just a child.
Always sucking breast,
Mummy never rest;
Don’t worry…
Just a child.
.
“Mummy I’m sorry,
Please don’t worry;”
She said “I am…
Just a child.
-B. M. Atsen




MY PEERS – MY SENIORS
(Dedicated to all February babies.)
(13th July, 2007.)
My month – ‘Second born’
In a written calendar,
But three years younger
Than its junior months.
.
Once in four years
But a year older.
When they turned four,
I, but a year.
.
My birthday is titled;
‘Leap year’ (four years.)
By all true illusions,
My peers – my seniors.
.
But always never elated
When finally it comes;
The 29th – ‘Leap year’
I! but a year older.
Look! Effacing again…
-B. M. Atsen