THE TINY BOY IN PATCH WORK KNICKERS
The tiny boy in patch work knickers
Stands next to his shabby shack where a small lamp flickers
Scared and diffident
Quivering under the assault of the sounds vociferant.
A sudden gust of wind
Blows out the tiny lamp
While the Indian skies cackle and smile
With Chinese sparkle and guile.
His mother puffs into the bellows
Ignoring the drunken fellows
Who lean against her patchwork shack
Where her son in patchwork knickers stands forlorn.
The measly sparkler in his tiny hand
Seems to have heard the child's moan
Valiantly it tries to hold its own
Against the crackers in China made
His smile which was about to fade
Suddenly is full blown.
As the Lilliputian sparkler
In a sudden burst of effervescence
Is bloated with Brobdingnagian confidence.
Lighting his patched face, lighting his sad heart
His tiny face now a moonbeam bright .
The fatherless boy in patch work knickers
Happily turns in for the night
His mother's sunken cheeks bloated by her energetic blows
Into the bellows
Leered on by the drunken fellows.
Stands next to his shabby shack where a small lamp flickers
Scared and diffident
Quivering under the assault of the sounds vociferant.
A sudden gust of wind
Blows out the tiny lamp
While the Indian skies cackle and smile
With Chinese sparkle and guile.
His mother puffs into the bellows
Ignoring the drunken fellows
Who lean against her patchwork shack
Where her son in patchwork knickers stands forlorn.
The measly sparkler in his tiny hand
Seems to have heard the child's moan
Valiantly it tries to hold its own
Against the crackers in China made
His smile which was about to fade
Suddenly is full blown.
As the Lilliputian sparkler
In a sudden burst of effervescence
Is bloated with Brobdingnagian confidence.
Lighting his patched face, lighting his sad heart
His tiny face now a moonbeam bright .
The fatherless boy in patch work knickers
Happily turns in for the night
His mother's sunken cheeks bloated by her energetic blows
Into the bellows
Leered on by the drunken fellows.
ThanQ for the impasse of the child with no crackers on Diwali Night - a torture so everything happens and does not matter WOW Santosh
ReplyDelete"Be thankful for small mercies" is the motto here. Such gratitude for life's inconsequentialities is a hallmark of Santosh's precious gifts to us. Thanks, Santosh.
ReplyDelete