Thursday, December 29, 2005

English Cold

When nights go freezing
in quiet English winters
and flutters grow wild
over cosy feather beds
A quiet child tiptoes to loo
on cold zig-zag tiles
teensy slabs smile
at the kid's tender soles
A wince they send
to the sole's soul
an icky snuffle starts
that soon conspires
to spread like bush fire
and floors the entire household!
Thats what you call the English cold!

Samy Posted by Picasa


Leera Roy said...

As beautiful and funny as poetry can get. And hows the kid doing now?

Leera Roy, Management executive

Brian Welsley said...

ha ha ha. Brian laughs. Thats funny for sure. English Cold. Nice composition. Nicely written.
Look forward to read more of you in the days to come.

Rohit said...

Hey sam. who is this addressed to. I hate this element of curiosty in your lines. Always cryptic but nonetheless beautiful as ever. Genius are you!

Jenny said...

Soul sends a message to the soul. Amazing analogy. Like your style. I have bookmarked your beautiful blog. I also keep a blog but can't write half as beautiful and efforlessly as you so. Jenny

Dr Anil Jha said...

Well writen verses. frankly i dont follow much of your erudite, modern english expressions but all the same love reading u whenever i get some time.
keep up th egood work