Poetry

A Speaking Fruit Fly

come on lets raise and rise

 as its a skunk of expedition to climb up the kick,

                   through the greenclad field of miske,

the vista of beauty

is in blanket of its abyss

 or is it with the whiff of wet mud?

or is it the inherent ambiance of a blooming bud?

yeh! Its the flight of a be felled,

over the moon there’s a sigh

now do we have a shoulder to cry,

let the gallant step all around to try

and if the underhanded slap on your wrist,

and if the greasing cream halts your clothes to cist,

then you’ll turn busted in tears,

or may dress down to redress your fears

at a loss for words we gear

and rebound to life with a cheer

the fruit fly flew speechless

over her forehead in distress

 

she was one such fatality

Mistress Maria Johny Silver

An angelic sylph,

Her glossy hair nymph,

Fairfield beautician

Who asserts helpmeets, gals through creation

And makes ladies’ day by beautification

The whoremonger Mr. Shone

Tries to offer her through a custard flawn

Submits as heartsick

And then turns into a bully nick

the fruit fly flew speechless

over her forehead in distress

 

Let me tell you bizarre

of a gal miss. Samaire

who executed menage errands

and broiled palatable viands

her consort didn’t bother

her bustling he obscured further

in a fume she was confounded

for applauding rather

disdained her half-sister

troubled her foster mother

she awaited for sanctified ways

but they were steady days

the fruit fly flew speechless

over her forehead in distress

 

arise as I render a senile tale

 And sketch an arbor of a cold war hail

She sat with a penstock

And heard someone mock

The lines heard by her son

 A prodigious poet Mr. fun

He wanted to take care of his mom

 after union he was a tom

who couldn’t read those poem

 her autumn of life was in solitary

one day her son would return back she hope

her solace is her only scope

she dawdled for him

till the starlight dim

the fruit fly flew speechless

over her forehead in distress

Its a storm tide of Liza D’Souza

who aspired to be a  stargazing actress

envisioned megahit

she dolled up in amazing outfit

she breathed down-and- out

and she turned flout

but her hope was to outwit

the fruit fly flew speechless

over her forehead in distress

finally, I deconstruct my pal’s memory lane

She spoke in vain!

as I was shut-in the pain

 

I steered to garnery better-half

but he never explored my laugh

 doing as his folks lead was statutory

from heating food to sanitary

from watching movies to catnap

and expression to deal gap

am I abhorring my bar

don’t cuff the chain

as we want to enjoy the beauty lane

 

one day we would release ourselves from stockade

 and would walk in the florescence of sunlit shade

 which would takes us to stay in what we like

and would make us appeased charade

the fruit fly flew speaking

head about head about..

over her forehead in and out

 

                                                                                      ~  Pillai Vidya  Gopal  (Scholar Of Dictions  from K.J Somaiya )

                                                                                                        Qatar

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