THE DANCE OF NATURE

     
  








 

                 










                                                                            I

                                             A sudden change in sky-scape blue
                                             Sleek chains of pearls with mercurial glow
                                             A loud shudder of unbounded throb
                                             A frenzied gush of blowing wind
                                             Shaking each leaf with brushing sweep;
                                             The earth's response too keen to see;
                                             Hot sighs of close communion sweet
                                             Rise from Her parched dust-brown lips;
                                             Plants like fresh-bathed kids swing and cheer
                                             The pattering drops pure, crystal-clear;
                                             Trees waving their fan-like foliage free
                                             Grass swells emerald-green with pearl-decked showers;
                                             Each bloom imbibes a glittering charm.



                 

             

            








                                                                          
                                                                     II

                                             A festive dance of earth and sky
                                             So free, so cool, emotive sharing bliss;
                                             And we in civilized fetters fret
                                             Uncaring of this unbridled joy;
                                             We sit unmoved like lifeless tools 
                                             Buried in thoughts and devilish strife
                                             Unresponsive to this spontaneous thrill
                                             A lyric of Nature's omniscient skill;
                                             Oh, let me be free like rain, wind or stream!
                           Not posing like cute cultured dolls; we should be what we seem.

                                                    *****************************************
                                             
                  16th May, 2015                                              Somaseshu Gutala                                             

KITCHEN QUEEN

           
        

                                  1)             A useful invention thou art
                                                  A concrete help to culinary art;
                                                  To lighten dreary household work
                                                  No need for us our duty to shirk;
                                                  A gift of science to every woman and man
                                                  Our work made quick, so spick and span.

                                  2)            Without thee, much delay in routine
                                                  Now plenty of leisure and kitchen clean
                                                  No suffocating smoke or dirt
                                                  No pungent vapors from vessels hurt;
                                                  All in one container thou art
                                                  A steaming treat, our fresh breakfast.

                                 3)            Thy whistling hiss I cannot miss
                                                 A welcome sound fills me with bliss
                                                 Ev'ry thing's ready in time so short;
                                                 All items fresh-cooked, piping hot
                                                 No loss of vitamins, no half-cooked stuff;
                                                 Open the lid, delicious smells you puff. 

                         



 













                                  4)           Swishing, steaming and hissing loud
                                                Thou art our prestigious possession proud
                                                Man-friendly gadget, thou, best friend
                                                To all; with thee, a happy time we spend;
                                                A boon for ladies and gents indeed
                                                Cooking, no more a boring deed.

                                  5)          Thy shiny steel look adds grace to shelf
                                               Thou art indeed a scientific elf;
                                               Thou, source of saving energy, a lot;
                                               Time-saver, and server of dishes hot;
                                               Let people praise and take a lesson from thee;
                                               Service, the core of all beliefs, in brief.

                 
                                         ************************************ 
                                                                                                                                                                                    13th May, 2015                                                                      Somaseshu Gutala                                                                                                                                                         


                                                     

            










                                        
 

THE LONELY PIPER

     

                
                              

 

                               1)      I heard a lone melancholy plaintive drawl
                                  Of the lonely piper begging round
                                  A wail of shrill soul-piercing call
                                  As if his pipe puffed pain profound
                                  A lean old man turbaned appeared before
                                  A flood of music through dim morn tore.

                        2)       In ragged attire once shone with  richest charm
                                  A faded apparel  of good old times
                                  Big beads, strange shells bedecked his form
                                  He went alone with tinkling chimes;
                                  Puffing a full-blown outdated song
                                  Something missing,something went wrong.

                             3)         I thought of happy past times' call
                                  When festive zeal infused in all full cheer
                                  When whole village became a wedding hall
                                  When each house appeared neat and clear
                                  Where were those merry moments gone?
                                  Why this sad sullen song in morn?

                       4)       Where's the humped bull with crescent horns
                                 Striding with regal pace full-drest
                                 With precious brocaded silks adorn
                                 With tassels and bells upon his painted crest
                                 Where is the piper with the magic spell? 

                      5)        The piper's lusty shout at every door
                                 Rang out a note of joy in all to see
                                 His hands were filled with gifts galore;
                                 The bull shook to and fro his crown with glee
                                 The village welcomed with full-stretched arms
                                 The piper gladdened all with sportive charms.

                      6)        And now none cares to come and hear his song
                                 Old, weak and neglected by all
                                 Dragged on and drawled a sullen song
                                 Without his beloved bull and silken shawl
                                 A lifeless spirit gaunt he slowly went
                                 From lane to lane his form half-bent.

                      7)        In his sad face seen the ruined spirit
                                 Of rural heritage of dying past;
                                 Who can revive the bygone mirth and wit? 
                                 The piper without his sacred bull, a lost
                                 Legend of fabled mirth and thrill ;
                                 His song rings through my bosom still.

                     8)        A dreary noise indifferent all round spills
                                Snapping the friendly feelings of intimacy
                                Too much concern for one's self kills
                                The spirit of charity and mercy;
                                The piper's song -- a glorious lyric for all
                                To sing, to share and live with all. 

                                         ======================

    
         2nd May, 2015                                                             Somaseshu Gutala

                               

                                


                               


            

MANGO PLUCKERS

                                                         MANGO PLUCKERS




       
                                                                                       

 

         










                             1)     Scurrying one after another we went
                                      Armed with wedged poles to sight by scent
                                      To pluck the yellow fruits concealed
                                      A playful task with joy we reeled
                                      To find, to pluck and gently toss
                                      Into the shells of bamboo bedded with grass.

                             2)     Some climb with skill to pluck the prize
                                      Others look up with prying eyes
                                      Some catch the booty thrown from height
                                      Their playful mirth doth make work light.
                                      An air of togetherness felt by all
                                      No hard work is this; a sport this fall 
                                      Of golden globes from bushy leaves;
                                      To run and chuckle, each other tease
                                      The bruised fruits for lesser use;
                                      The poor lads licked the fruits let loose.

                  
                  

        









                           3)       Whenev'r a fruit was found and hit
                                      A cry of joy from eyes that flit
                                      From branch to branch with a greedy smile
                                      Shaking the leaves to capture the pile;
                                      A round of mango heap entire
                                      With ripened smell and ruddy fire;
                                      We craned our necks to spy aloft
                                      We poked our shafts with gentle craft
                                      To pluck if any hidden fruit soft
                                      With aching limbs and gaze enrapt.

                            4)       The birds driven by pluckers fly
                                       Look far from a safe distance high;
                                       The tree shorn of her fruitful show
                                       Looks bare with empty sacrificial glow:
                                       A soul that gives her all to share
                                       Ripens in full by godly care.

                           5)       Our labor sweetened with ultimate prize
                                      A share of buxom yellow fruit ;
                                      For young and old, a feast for eyes;
                                      This naked tree now none can loot;
                                      We went away uncaring summer's heat
                                      Till next mango season with memories sweet.

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

          6th April, 2015                                                                        SOMASESHU GUTALA

             Note:

        The dream-experience after picking apples in the orchard is beautifully articulated by Robert Frost(1874--1963 ) in his poem " After Apple-picking" (1914). There the poet says "I am overtired/ of the great harvest I myself desired." " I am done with apple-picking now." But in this poem "Mango-pluckers", the agile children enjoyed to their hearts' content the toilsome act of mango-plucking and ate mangoes without caring the intense heat of the Indian summer. It is a factual experience where work and delight meet.

      The mango tree denuded of her luscious and ripe, yellow fruits represents the generous 
and selfless Mother Nature who still shines with sacrificial glow. The children leave satisfied with their abundant store of fruits till nature beckons them again in summer season. I used irregular stanzas to capture the free spirit of playful children enjoying their activity. Frost's poem inspired me to write this lyric suited to our Indian context and surroundings.  

                                                     ======================                        
                                     

ODE TO THE INDIAN SUMMER

                                   
                                                      ODE TO THE INDIAN SUMMER





                           





 









   
   









                       
               \

                                                                                   




                             











  










                               1)      Who isn't afraid of thee ?
                                          Thou, blazing season of the year !
                                          Arousing in us volcanic fear
                                          Withering each herb, bush and tree
                                          Thou, friend of burning sun and fire!
                                          Hot like furnace with blowing air.

                                 2)      In stuffy sweltering heat
                                           We struggle hard to quench our thirst
                                           Burdened with power-crisis worst
                                           No cool comforting zephyrs sweet
                                           A roasting hell everywhere around
                                           Not a drop of water in streams found.

                                3)       Thy fiery rage burns us all
                                           Houses, cattle and men to dust
                                           With crackling fire and fiery gust;
                                           The houseless victims reel and fall
                                           Subdue thy rage, almighty power!
                                           Send us sometimes cool refreshing shower.

                                4)      Deserted roads 'midst day
                                          Confined in rooms all people stay
                                          They rush to cool their parched lips
                                          With sweet sugarcane juicy sips
                                          Iced drinks, and fragrant syrups sweet
                                          With air-coolers to beat the heat.

                                5)      A welcome guest, cool night
                                          Though warm with lingering torpid sighs
                                          A brief respite from starry sighs
                                          The floating moon, a soothing sight;
                                          Tired with heat, men drowsily swoon
                                          The rustling breeze, a refreshing boon. 

                               6)       Undreaded by thy might
                                          Nature bares her colorful store ;
                                          Red forest flame and jasmine white
                                          Ripe juicy melons, grapes and mangoes more
                                          To cool our bodies' restless heat
                                          And soothe our senses with fragrance sweet.

                               7)      Ev'n wild beasts hunt for shade
                                         Famished cattle scarce find a leafy blade
                                         Like passionate youth misled astray
                                         Thou ragest like mad dog in May;
                                         The sun flames forth like a ball of fire
                                         Behold our plight; control thy ire.

                              8)       Rich people rush to remote
                                         Resorts in A.C.Coaches trim
                                         Sipping wine foaming up to brim
                                         They drown summer in mirth and sport
                                         The poor debt-ridden starve in grief;
                                         Cool down! With mother's touch give us relief.
                                      
                             9)        Reveal thy secrets dark
                                         Thy rage makes us stark mad
                                         A million eyes you can make glad
                                         By cool showers and can spark
                                         A glorious birth, a happy grin.

                           10)       Don't fret with feverish heat
                                        Fill our bosoms with kindly looks ;
                                        Let loose thy feelings flow like brooks
                                        God's creation, thou kindly treat;
                                        Dry bare cracked earth grovels in gloom
                                        Let colorful cool everywhere bloom.

    
      3rd April, 2015                                                                       Somaseshu Gutala