When in glorious colors
and measured steps
Danced the young peacock,
Alas! I took no heed, and
Hurried on my imperious
walk.
When the girl sang
In her soulful, mellow
voice,
I pressed “record” for the
future
And failed, just then, to
rejoice
When the meal was served,
My nostrils ablaze with
its flavor,
Alas! I bickered over
trifles
And neglected to savor.
When my lover kissed me,
Wine alighting my senses,
Blinded by passion, Alas!
I
Rushed into one of those
crises.
The universe was ever onto
me
With its bag of tricks and
ploy,
Alas! I looked away
Searching instead
For a “how-to” guide to
joy.
Author: Abhay B. Joshi
(Email: abjoshi@yahoo.com, WhatsApp: +1 425 623 7996)