Monday, May 13, 2013

Indian summer

When the land is parched, and throats dry

the hot air blows and the birds go shy

When the dogs incessantly pant away

and little children refuse to play


When lips are dry and salt streaks the skin

when tempers flare and patience runs thin

When the streets are quiet, and ponds all flaked

the sky is pale and land is baked


When the air hangs still, and trees don't sway

the plants dry out and hope fades away

When the haze is history, killed by the wave

and the distant wintery dream, the only solace


Let’s, then spare a thought for those who toil

trudging in this heat, the sons of the soil

Labourers, rickshaw pullers, farmers, all along

for dignity in labour, ‘sweat’ is their sweet song


The unforgiving summer should make us realise

the calamity next year will be of a bigger size

Conserving Mother Nature, is the only way wise

her wrath en masse, else will be the price


No comments: