Wednesday, March 27, 2024

Returning home

                      

          Dreaming of lily-smiles and rosy cheeks

          Showers of sapphire and lightning looks;

          A beckoning star with swelling sighs

          I tried to clasp a fistful of light;

          No greeting stretch of hands;

          A stiff-lipped silence

          A cold steel-grey stone-touch;

          I slunk aside in a neglected nook;

          No more I wished for cobweb dreams

          No more to diet on moonlight beams;

          Her dusky bosom heaved at once

          A creeping thrill in darkness dense;

          A wondrous miracle—I felt intense;

          I touched the fringe of bliss beyond myself

          Is it a dream or a mischievous elf?

                       ******************

      27th March, 2024                       Somaseshu Gutala

  

Thursday, March 21, 2024

A touching farewell

 

                                               


                    

                           Without a touch I have to leave

                           No chance to flash a meaningful smile

                           Or a wave of hand.

                           Our house in traditional vein

                           Full with all our well-wishers

                           Our nearest and dearest kith and kin;

                           To wish them away

                           An unpardonable sin;

                           Every wall and window

                           Too busy with eyes, ears and tongues;

                           No scope for wishes and whispers-

                           I touched the filmy eyes of yours

                           With my palpitating heart;

                            I looked back at the unfulfilled dreams

                            That we left behind;

                            With Time’s onward rush unkind

                             I felt the stab of thy glance;

                             With a suppressed sigh, I made bold

                             A step forward

                             To attend the pulling urge

                             Of the routine, rugged life.

                              *******************


     21st March, 2024                                Somaseshu Gutala



Friday, March 15, 2024

Reflections of a middle-class husband

       


                         


                                      

            

         1.    How soon we crossed swift years upon the seas

Of time; I can’t believe, yet what

We got, you may question, but nought;

A routine cyclic round, no splendid breeze

Of victory rippled our stagnant rhythm of life;

We lived as others do as husband and wife.

 

2.    We got good help but not in a state to give

No rosy moments we had, but calmy live

In casual ways sans closer ties;

No events made us sane and wise;

The seas of fate, uncertain and too cold

As deep may be your mind, I can’t behold;

Our duties goaded us to run round the clock

No poetic lilt we felt, no thrilling shock.

 

3.    So many years passed—we rolled like balls

Playing too cautious to break our walls;

Unaware of our goals, we plied on our ways

Unmindful of dreary prospective days;

We kept within our bounds too discreet to break

A compromising deal—no risk or stake. 

 

4.    Our tastes do differ, but our duties link

No lusty greed spurred you; no brink

Of ambition fired my heart; I took

Whatever came with easy look

Reposing faith in the grace of God;

Through ups and downs we patiently trod.

My eager earnings scarcely enough for needs

With rising prices our purses are bound to bleed.

Your careful ways helped me--much I admire

Within our limits we curbed our dreams and desires.

 

5.    In compromising ways, we moved with ease

My life, a leaf whirled round by chancy breeze;

I pray for doing my share of mine by just

Means aided by God and not a burden curst;

I wish thee brighter moments of bliss

Tempered with moral strength and peace.

 

6.    No rolling flood of wealth and joy I share

With thee; a simple soul what can I spare?

No bragging pomp of luxuries I shower

No mansioned magnificence, beyond my power;

Let us maintain our relations with hope and cheer;

Let us live in peace with a conscience clear;

No use of blaming fate for what we got

As middle-class people let us accept our lot;

What more can I promise? No rosy dreams

Smile thy way through, cheer up, no raging screams.

    ***********************************

15th March, 2024               Somaseshu Gutala

Note: The predicament in a middle-class family is shown. The wide gap between aspirations and reality is described. Of course, the positive aspect is adjustment and mutual understanding.

Saturday, March 9, 2024

The Dynamic beat

 


                                                


                       

       Pressed by so many duties down;

       I pant and push through work, no time to waste;

       No time to stop awhile, no time to pause or rest;

       So much to do, I fret and frown;

       No time to touch the frilled pink flower

       No time to feel sweet melody’s shower;

       In Time’s grip lies a monstrous power;

       A warning tolls from lofty, rocky tower;

       My heart beats fast—how much I lost

       A knotty mess still left-oh, God! I am lost;

       Sweating beads in sweltering heat

       I run haggard from seat to seat;

      The rose chuckled, the bird twittered, the leaf

      Fluttered; I sink dead-tired; a lifeless heap.

                    ^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

      9th March, 2024             Somaseshu Gutala

Friday, March 1, 2024

A Refreshing Ride

                                


                         


       A refreshing ride on smooth and silky ways

       No cares, no prying creature attention pays;

       A pageant green all around with no foul stain

       No brawls, no restless heat, no trouble and no strain;

       I watch the floating strings of birds, those colorful fays

      Unruffled by the bustle of earthly freaks and frays;

      Past memories sparkle within; a tearful feeling sways;

      My bosom like a bee sucks peace around

      Starred with pea-cock-blue buds and berries crowned

      A replica of sky seen here with green background

      Forgetful of worldly worries here I find

      A safe haven—motherly bosom dear, so kind;

      I rush towards thy lap—Thou, treasure

     Of all-encompassing source of pleasure!

                  *********************

       1st March, 2024              Somaseshu Gutala