Lady Gaia

An attempt at poetry after years of dry spell

Lady Gaia
In peace, she rests
With a Velveteen cover
Of bright green hues
Dark green lace
Rotund mounds and humps of dew
On a Bed of blue
Pillows of white
Chirping music in the background
Lovely fragrance
Of lush nature
Whiff of tea, lemon grass and pinecones
And whatever wild trees are made of
Light brown veins
Carry her lifelines
Who she let’s live on her
Caring, caressing
Sometimes they tickle
Sometimes they poke
Most of the times they scurry around
Unlike her other multilegged sows
They savour. They support
Her body like she does their life
The two-legged ones, though
Don’t treat her right
But a mother is as a mother does
On she loves
On she leaves
With peace, she let’s them be

Red about Red

It was a happy, happy world;

Everyone, with happiness, wore the shroud.

Without it, step out, one could not,

Or sweep on you, the police would.

Put you in prison, force you to wear black,

If you still refuse the joyous cloth.

Red was its colour,

Or so it appeared to me.

For some, it may have been yellow,

For another, orange with a golden sheen.

But I liked blue,

It induced in me, soulful blues.

I wished, I prayed, I would come to love red,

That I don’t reject the hegemony of enforced bliss.

I was green with envy of those who loved ‘happy’;

Alas, resented and shirked, that colour was too.

Red, I turned, with a burning anger,

Against all those enforcing upon me, red;

Soon, one day, I snapped, into the hands of my freedom,

And walked out wearing black,

Into the arms of evil, free-willed death.