Sunday, November 25, 2007


She arranged
The broken bangles
To make them whole again
The blue glass bangles
Her eyes,
They filled with pain

Her life lay bleak
Ahead of her
A life bereft of gain
For the only joy
She ever had
Is here before her lain

Up in the cold mountain pass
His brave, young blood
He did drain
Up in that lonely, craggy pass
That his motherland he could hain

His mother sat huddled
Besides him, with a yearning
Fistful of grain
Her son, he was her boon
His calling
Now their bane

Here he lay,
Her darling, her
Once-naughty eigne
No! She’ll shed tears no more!
But call herself
To refrain

He’s a martyr twice over
And it shall not be
In vain
She must think now
Of his widow, who, with
Grief, has gone insane

She sat there
Arranging her bangles
To make them whole again
Her broken glass bangles
And her eyes
They filled with pain

He was her darling ‘junglee’
He’d said
“Me Tarzan, you Jane”
Alas! My darling junglee
You’ve left me
Alone in the rain

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