5. A GLASS OF WATER
I stood for marathon hours under the blistering Sun; accomplishing a battalion
of tasks with the arid breeze slapping my cheek,
When I came back home; I instantly pacified my insatiable thirst consuming a
glass of cold water.
I ran long distances on a track of consolidated mud; with pumped exuberance
bursting through my fragile muscles,
Infinite strands of my hair engulfed by golden sweat; I then submerged my
forehead in a glass of water to rejuvenate my pulsating temples.
I clambered up steep slopes of the mountain using the full power of my wrists;
with a crunching sound emanating from my bones,
As an inevitable aftermath; I swooned on the ground midway in exhaustion;
opened my eyes the instant I was sprinkled with a glass of water.
I rolled ecstatically in a curry of voluptuously wet mud; incorporating my
demeanor with streaks of brown blended with abashing black,
Poured a glass of water with vigorous tenacity on the same; to get rid of the
disdainful dirt.
I lay unconscious on the ground; after diligently fasting all day; exhaling
shallow gasps of breath at intermittent intervals;
Displayed the first signs of recovery; after a glass of water was meticulously
impregnated in my body.
My voice sounded pungently shrill and hoarse simultaneously; with blurred
notes of music diffusing when I sang,
Although I was cheered with boisterous claps; received a plethora of
accolades; when I opened my mouth after drinking a glass of water.
Streams of blood oozed profusely from my wounds; as I lay on the road after a
ghastly accident,
The flow however ceased dramatically; after I drenched my bruise in a glass of
water.
I wrote unrelentingly under the dim light of the bulb; with my dainty fingers
tiring as a manifestation of the onerous effort,
However my hands were as fit as to decimate a brick wall; after revitalizing
them with a glass of water.
I lived my life in penurious circumstances; with meager emoluments of affluence to my credit,
However to all who visited my dilapidated dwelling; I never failed to offer a glass of water; gratifying their thirst; prompting them to shower blessings on my impoverished soul.
I commenced my day in brilliant sunlight consuming it with relish; imparting
radiant tenacity to my silhouette,
Retired for the night uttering a silent thanks to the Creator for all the goodness he created; admiring the richness embossed in that innocuous looking glass of
warm water.
6. A WRITER WITHOUT A PEN
A writer without a pen; is like a dog deprived of its magnanimously furry tail,
A writer without a pen; is like the jungle woodpecker without a beak,
A writer without a pen; is like a musician without a melodious voice,
A writer without a pen; is like a cluster of fish deprived of saline water,
A writer without a pen; is like the celestial body of Sun bereft of brilliant rays,
A writer without a pen; is like the colossal persona of blackboard without
colored chalk,
A writer without a pen; is like the desert without astronomical amounts of scorched sand,
A writer without a pen; is like the cow stripped of its angular horn,
A writer without a pen; is like the exquisite sedan divested of aromatic fuel,
A writer without a pen; is like a red ant without its poignant sting,
A writer without a pen; is like a well laid concrete road without congested traffic,
A writer without a pen; is like a bird without its pair of indispensable wings,
A writer without a pen; is like warm quilt without stuffing if wool,
A writer without a pen; is like a grandiloquent chess board without carved pieces,
A writer without a pen; is like a wrestler without bulging muscles,
A writer without a pen; is like a computer without a plethora of programmed chips,
A writer without a pen; is like the scintillating sword without a sharp edge,
A writer without a pen; is like a rustic panther without its vociferous growl,
A writer without a pen; is like an oyster without immaculate pearl,
A writer without a pen; is like the preposterously huge blue whale without teeth,
A writer without a pen; is like black thunderous clouds in the cosmos without pelting rain,
A writer without a pen; is like sticky puddles of glue without adhesive power,
A writer without a pen; is like a bank vault without crisp notes of currency,
A writer without a pen; is like the sacrosanct Bible without umpteenth parables of holy literature,
A writer without a pen; is like man existing on earth without mystical traces of love,
Therefore it is my vehement plea to all writers treading on the soil of this earth,
Lift the contraption of pen and ink in your philanthropic hands,
Voraciously inundate blank sheets of paper; with infinite lines of effusive literature,
Thereby portraying the power of your thoughts; transmitted with great efficacy
by the innocuous pen.
7. BEFORE GOING TO SLEEP
The race horse inexorably needed red radish; with succulent green leaves,
Before he could fall into a slumber; rest his tired body with paltry hours of
nocturnal sleep.
A fleet of birds impregnated their nests with bountiful fillings of twigs and grass,
Cuddled their offspring with quills of ruffled feather; before retiring for night sleep.
The pot bellied tortoise receded its head way back in its obdurate shell,
Gulped down handsome pints of water; before shutting his eyes and going to sleep.
The venomous spider; trapped a plethora of insect in its battalion of arms,
Traversed across the periphery of its silken; before clamping its legs and
falling asleep.
The preposterously huge whale; hunted down gargantuan amounts of small fish,
Transforming the ostentatious silhouette of the luxury ship into pieces of floating log; before transiting to realms of deep sleep.
Slithering reptiles in the densely cloistered jungle; stung innocuous people by the campfire,
Stealthily devouring fresh eggs laid by bird mother; before they retreated in their den to sleep.
The disdainful leech; sucked infinite amount of blood,
Stuck intractably like the strongest of glue; languishing a bit before falling into
a snooze.
Stray donkey's on the road; obstreperously wailed their tale of daily woes,
Stood on their hooves; with their heads lowered down in shame; before embracing night sleep.
The hunchbacked camel in the desert ambled at languid speeds,
Stored colossal amounts of water in its belly; before he bent down on the sand
to sleep.
Hordes of mosquitoes stung scores of people; mischievously grinned,
Extracting robust blood to gratify their gluttony; before going to sleep.
And an army of humans on this earth; perspired onerously under the Sun all
blistering day,
Earning fodder to sustain precious life; inscribing a place to dwell on the
surface of earth,
Before they eventually retired for the night; to blissfully snore and sleep.