Molten gold

Envy streaked his face
As he looked at the ripe, juicy wonders
Mulberries, blueberries, raspberries and cherries
Hanging from trees in lusciousness merry!
Nature was at its luxuriant best
In that poster near the kitchen sink of the mansion
Where he had gone to repair a leak.
He cannot repair the leaks in his life. What an irony!

There was a storm in his heart, and a storm outside
It whimpered and it rained, followed by a hurricane
But he closed his eyes,
Plugged his ears
The sandstorm roared and the rain poured.

In his shack, on a lavender scented pillow of his dreams
He put his head, thus slept the dreamer on his hard bed.

Magic moonlight dreamed in his eyes.
And music danced, whirling mad.
He dreamt of the happy kid he had seen on the road
Strapped to the car seat, high –fiving with his dad.
The grey sky turned blue
As on wings of fancy, he flew
To an alluring wilderness, where glowworms bold,
Emboldened him, sighs on hold, he gaped
Marveling at the sand on his shoes covered with molten gold.

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About Santosh

An educationist with a passion for writing , having published some novels for young adults, some essays and some poems. My poetic biography of Mahatma Gandhi will soon be published .

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