A look a drift

A look upon the mountain was a drift,
on the shoestring budget I brought a Piano,
the look meant I had pined hopes on being a thrift,
and with the old school grammar lessons' help, I played the hosanna.

the prayer would run as if it were a God's might,
a moon bright charm to hyena's delight,
I danced my fingers on the keyboard and called the pun,
There was a morphing light gilded from the sun.

I hesitated and ruminated the passing of years on time's sledge,
there was a lonesome figure luriking at the bushes' edge,
and I sang with exultion to see Catherine emerge,
from the bushes and into my look she surged.

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The Priest

Follow the main part in the play of the gang,
of brethren who tested the pace of wind,
with their arrows stringed to a bang,
those choppy seas rose, hearing the birds sing,
Then men were released on to the shore,
Thousands of them along the beach, to an orgy in the shallows,
there they avenged the death of priest on the gallows.

He wore camaraderie like a woman would a lipstick,
he would charm the sheep with his vocal cords,
and the priest would be left altogether aghast,
He was proclaimed the sinner on the hanging bridge,
which shuddered with the feet of too many men,
like a thread would in the face of the wind,
The priest had believed the God to be a witch.

A saintly love-joy

What is the source of happiness?
The laughter split into shards of joy,
While you smile reddened by umpteen times
of love's remembrance,
the wealth or health are merely a toy,
to make-believe the spirit of God above,
Still I share with you the treasure trove,
of saints long lived and passed now,
that their meandering about the earth,
are above the plenitude of many a row,
While we burn with joy the common hearth,
This is the source of happiness-
the silent halo of betokened love above the clouds,
The abode of nothing but pure nature's shrouds.

We the lovable On the Earth Day

Drowning in the sadness of the hour,
I pass the minutes nibbling at silence,
neither farmers nor the householders have assuaged,
the fears of a pandemonium we face,
the earth turning on its feet to go astray,
if we don't save the skies pining on oxygen,
all the hopes will fall by the way of depleting nitrogen,
we must act in haste to walk the tightrope on environment,
we must set the planet in order or with extinction we pay,
whatever comes the government,
and which so ever way we may go,
We the lovable on the earth day must set right the climate change,
or we will be left with nothing to manage

The Bar head

The bar head was deaf with the colours of  love
He would speak though the hymns of love to Jove
And she was a little lamb in the orchard besides
where would come the seamen to wag their times
She was young and nubile while the bar head sad and senile
Many a times she told the bar head the need for a love-joy
to which he was mute and incapable to say hi
They parted when the bar head went out of wits
left her to fend for God whom he thought would meet 
On the distant shores from where came the seamen
with many tales of heavenly abodes lit
She is unknown name on the streets of love like a good omen