Total Views

Tuesday, February 8, 2011

Thus, Stratified...

Composed by: Azm

Thy father,
a potter,
lived in the valley green;
Made vases,
carved traces,
held 'em tight together as seen.

Beauty captured,
(In)clay clustered,
Stood proud and tall;
Jealous neighbor,
broke through (the)door,
planned to make it fall.

He took,
off the hook,
with a miser grin on his face;
Smashed it,
into tiny bit(s),
yet took over the case.

Father look!
we shook,
realized he lay there dead;
Speechless,
senseless,
sleeping on his death bed.

Fragile and sad,
surrounded by the bad,
mourning at such grief;
Now we've learnt,
it can't be brought,
together again to stand there stiff.
© Copyright 2011 Azm

7 comments:

  1. a well written story POEM...
    just loved it...
    Super...

    You have said a whole story in a poem. that's grt.
    :)

    ReplyDelete
  2. haha thanx..but maile bhanna khojya kura kasaile ni bujhya jasto lagena...maile hamro desh ani chimeki rastra ko attyaachaar ko kura lekheko, =P
    read it once again, considering PN Shah as father, ani uniting nation as pottery! ;)

    ReplyDelete
  3. Surprised... by seeing your sense of writing...now i got it...
    ;)

    ReplyDelete
  4. Awesome, simply awesome great!

    ReplyDelete
  5. ashma darling.. kasto deep thoughts and writing.. i am officially a fan of your poetry!

    ReplyDelete
  6. sitaramkoirala@hotmail.comSep 6, 2011, 6:47:00 PM

    A Nice One

    ReplyDelete

Who am I?

I am just a mother with a child looking onto me for every little thing I am just a wife expected to look after every nooks and nac...