Poem By Nooruddeen Mathilakathveetil

Trills of the birds
Arouse him up in the morn.
The feeling of lethargy
Restrains him from getting up of his comfort
He pulls the glitzy quilt over
Cuddle the pillow and huddle
Try to take a zizz – in vain
Despite the wakeful night
Followed in the wake of roars of thunders
Perpetual pouring rain and baneful gale

He rolls out and draws the curtains
It is nippy and, still, drizzling out
Mist and fog smothered far and wide
Faintly visible a pair of flitting Kingfishers
On the sagged branches of the bougainvillea
The trills are aloud and melodious, though.

He slouches at the window and gazes at
The river flowing hard by, awhile
She is, in her saffron getup,
Slightly miffed and craggy
In the aftermath of the night pouring
Breeze triples the ripples on as a consolation
And then passes thru the window
To caress him with lots of love and affection

There bathing in the river, an adolescent,
The amusement bursts in to his hurray..hurray
There he soaked to the skin and, then,
Playing in the rain…
Sloshing through the puddle of muddy water
Ha! ...Ha! … The lad is at his peak of glee…...

In days of yore..
Bathing in the river
Experienced him spontaneous mirth
For long he bathed in the river
For long he played in rain,
He recalls…
The lullaby of the river was quite sweeter
The breeze was fairly colder
The trills were more melodious …but,
Deteriorated in course of time

His eyes are getting sagged
He can’t resist – he draws the curtains and
Slumps onto his downy pad
Pulls the quilt over….…..

April 3-2009

Comments about Retrace

Great piece! Beautifully worded.
So enjoyed this poetic story. There is a lot of 'soul', to the write! Wonderful! D
Thanks for your poem. The only way to stay the flow of the river is to float upon it. But the heart will not allow us to leave our loved ones behind, Unless you take them along for the ride.
nostalgic memories of good old days
playing in the rain fantastic! you write from the heart

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Yet to be dried, still wet and warm!

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I asked the stars
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My cute river
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A shabby shriveled bloke
Wrapped himself in a rug worn
Laden with a bulky bag torn

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Sun shines faintly in the rain ere long
Lovely girl’s lovely eyes
Twinkle with amazement

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I strode in the seething mass to be near you.