JAGADISH Mondal
How these rhymes are made, who knows?
I sit and read as wonder grows.
Beneath a mango tree I wait,
For verses to illuminate.
On branches high, the birds all play,
They chirp and chase in bright array.
But suddenly, clouds swirl the skies,
A storm begins with howling cries.
Leaves go flying, wild and fast,
The wind is drunk, a reckless blast!
Mangoes drop with splashes round,
Bouncing, tumbling on the ground.
Crows take flight in hurried chain,
It isn’t just a drop of rain!
I’ve got no umbrella to hold
My books now tear, their pages fold.
The birds that played just moments back
Now fall silent, still, and slack.
One flips midair in a dizzy dive,
The rest just stare, too scared to strive.
Who will care for this little one?
An aching heart in everyone.
I touch its head, so soft, so warm
And poems pour down in a storm.