When life
seems all hopeless
still don't you loose
all scope of hope
for there's
this thing
dangling
in the air,
Reach out
for God's sturdy rope.

For how
sure can
you be
that
death will
take you
to a better fate
What if
you are
plunged
into a
plight
much
worse where there's no turning
back at any rate!

In times of trials and tribulations invoke Him
Or your chances of contentment remain slim

You too haven't been infallible and above all blame,
that you wish for a perfect rosy life
The excuses for suicide are usually so lame,
Better enjoy your share even so in strife.

Donot
friend, plan to commit this act
just to invoke another's pity and regret.
The pity and regret will come and go
Besides it soothes no decomposed,
and a large slice of your life
May lie in waste, your soul disposed

Why rush for thy grave,
It may further gloom.
Suicide's ain't a way out
fellow human friend.
Pray a godless way ,not send
you unto this doom.
You haven't right to bring
any life to its end.

And it's probable that all
those years
that you now wish to recklessly
discard in dust
have something bright ahead,
got to be a ray of
hope
Extinguish it not if in God
you trust!

Marshes and meadows
Sunshine and shadows

Gentle ripples on the calm river
Foaming rapids in white water

The jungle echoes in the semi-darkness
while daylight creepy-crawlies clear the mess.

Peasants toiling and pheasants scratching
as I spy a cricket somersaulting

The cactus the desert's prickly femme-fatale
elsewhere a lone leaf floats in the canal

Prairie dogs go popping
while hares go hopping
and ladies go shopping

Swans have formed a V-line
The flora too is divine
as bees nosedive in bee-line.

Seista seizes birdlovers too
Thus they miss out on the hoopoe's song
For the hoopoe, it does not sing on cue
since a bird may sing anytime to woo.

What a medley eh of scenery
Murky eve and dawning greenery

Ah, wherever you go nature's so panoramic
While we make and take pictures
God actually makes what's so picturesque!

Of splendid thrones of gold  
or treasures manifold  
  
Of jewelled caskets  
or lavish banquets  
  
Of Emirs and rajahs  
Of Sultan and Shahs  
  
Of kings and queens  
Of rulers and emperors  
  
Of sparkling crowns  
or flowing gowns  
  
Of their subservient stewards and obedient pages  
Of their stalwart squires and servile knaves  
  
Of poor humble, docile minions  
who tended to regal pavilions  
And obeisantly carried royal palanquins  
Oh and some were real life harlequins  
  
Of castles and palaces  
of abounding gold and silver  
in ostentatious regal splendour  
  
The sidelined fanning maids in waiting  
Yet to me only one thing worth noticing  
The minstrels who came to sing  
from afar for the queen and king  
  
For I'd rather be a poetess for kings  
so to my tunes swayed a kingdom  
than I be the king of mere subjects  
and be filled with regal boredom!  
  
So I could join ranks of  
troubadours  
and sing for the king  
some folklores.