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पाणी और तमनाओ की तासीर एक है ,
आगे बड़ते जाना !
खुशी और मुस्कुराहट की तासीर एक है ,
उदासी को मिटाना !


©Mrunalini.D.Nimbalkar
Hindi  #free #verse # potencial #a raw attempt to try the four lines or chatushpadi {4lines } with a rhyme#taseer { efficacy}

Thanks for reading!!
Summer days and heatwaves
Sweat pouring down our skin
Working hard no time to rest
From the time the day begins.

Bailing hay without a shade
Not a single cloud insight
Gathering all the barely corn
We work until the night.

we have a little hideaway
A place down in the vale
Its where we drink some scrumpy
Along with beer and ale.

We while away  an hour or more
Depending on how we feel
We rest and take it easy
No sound from the tractors wheel.

Now tomorrow is another day
Our work load it will keep
We may be striming hedge grows
Or we may be shearing sheep.

But we really are not bothered
We've been farmers far too long
We carry out our dutys
And sometimes with a song.

Our lives are hard but simple
We are living the country life
Away from the city and the fumes
From cars and such alike.

You see we have this hideaway
A little place down in the vale
So come along and join us
At the end of a farmers day
Feeling the affects of the British heatwave
Made me feel just how  it must  be for the farmers with all the heat.
in a rather expensive restaurant
6 people are seated at a table next to us
drunk and bored
fat and old.

"hey blondie," the blue haired thrice divorce widow asks jen,
"how's that hamburger taste?"
blue hair pops an oyster from its grey shell as manny laughs
but his sagging eyelids can't see daylight.

I light a cheap cigar and blow smoke their way.
someone coughs and I smile.

they plan funeral arrangements.
discuss burial vs cremation.
manny wants to be cremated
while blue hair wants to be buried.
they argue.

and when a waitress comes to pick up 6 empty shells
left on the white china plate
I turn to them and smile again.
they are envious
because
we are young.

later: much, much later
in the ***** in the ceiling of time
seated at a table
i pluck an oyster
and leave an empty shell.
Every so often children throwing tantrums
Catch parent faces, bracing fallen sourness
Where outlines wrinkle rosy outlook sadly
Raisins having pits

Logan Robertson

1/16/2019
Read CC's blog at Poetry Soup, describing  sapphic stanza with a jux. I found that form interesting, spent hours marveling and researching. I attempted my first one. Not sure if this is correct-11/11/11/5. In this poem I wrote of a parent coping with a child's misbehavior. The effect of such leaving a wrinkled image much like a raisen on the parents face with the juxtaposition at the end of the poem, which is a play on words, too, raisens/raising.
As this world degrades,
And we've had enough of the old ways.

I can only wonder what becomes,
After this new birth,
Decays.

I know this world's rules,
And those before,

And I may know of what comes next,

But I will not know what rules,
As they call the next of next,

The fool.
Truth is a familiar word to all and yet is the most Elusive of all !

Truth is the Inner compass , navigating life's orientations.
Filling the heart with Euphoria of self validation's !

Paint the self in Truth and give the world a scintillating surprise .
Truth will always upraise you in your own eyes !

One is never enough and a hundred is never more ,
Believe in the power of truth and resurrect your own score !

Truth needs to be in action , not just in words , reiterate it to be heard .
For all we know is - " TRUTH ALONE TRIUMPHS IN EVERY SITUATION" !
©Mrunalini.D.Nimbalkar
Simply the truth#simple rhyme #importance of standing up for the truth...Need of the hour ! Thanks for reading☺
When oyster crackers fall into the soup
I gather my wits, amd my navy recoup.
The strategy changes as currents spoon by
each little ship sees the enemy on high.
They dip and dive in a turbulant sea
a tidal wave lashing, the ships can't break free.
One launches a missel the size of a pea
a flotilla of veggies is something to see.

They fire  the carrots,
submerge if they must
on kernels of corn
freed from the husk,

Now man the tomatoes, it's do or die,
the pattern keeps changing as
as the ships pass me by.

We're given a chance, one we must seize,
the pepper is causing Mama to sneeze.

I search the scene all by myself
while Mama gets bowls down from the shelf.
Then she checks the ***, and lets the war simmer
while I set the table, getting ready for dinner.

The crackers are soggy, no longer crisp
all of my ships are beginning to list.
So much for a battle that can't be won,
my family is hungry and the soup is done.

uuuuuuuum good.
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