Snooze And Muse

I was scribbling away. Why can I not get it? Rhyming words should be easy. What is there in it after all? Thunder with blunder, pain with main or bat and cat. I think I am getting the hang of it. Okay a fresh set. I scribble on : lame and tame, fell with hell, most with boast, dream with cream or ice cream! Trailing, wailing, sleeping, snoring…..

A good shake up made me wake up. Good I thought the poet in me is alive even after a snooze. I look at the paper on which I was scribbling and I found that the words had rearranged themselves while I was sleeping. Read on with me.

In rain and sun over hill, under a veil, in a shadow,
Catch it running on the meadow.
You try in vain, I stop in pain
“Tired”, I exclaim!

Sunny smiles and orchards and vines,
Yes on the hills too lined with pines.
Melting butter on a toast, waves kissing on any coast,
In fading twilight listening to the last post.

Dew on grass, perhaps even in crass,
Tired traveller, watch him pass.
In a flame, on a crutch the little boy lame,
The leaping joy looks the same.

Strides with pride, flying leaves that have dried,
Stains on the maiden’s cheek that tell you she had cried.
Laughter drifting through the woods,
A busy merchant selling his goods.

In a rabbit’s burrow or in a robber’s den,
It could be a barn or a writer’s pen.
Fear and delight, mid day or night,
Lovers walking hand in hand, holding tight.

The eye of a storm, in any shape size or form,
Thunder, lightning or a rebel breaking all norm.
A single flower, Rapunzel locked in a tower,
Wish upon a falling star, a bird flying back to its bower.

In chiming church bells and in dark prison cells.
Flying bats, prowling cats, listen to the gypsy woman as she foretells.
Tossing ship at mid sea, or a lawyer demanding his fee,
Peacefully sleeps the shepherd boy under the shade of a tree.

Can you see what I can see,
Watch all the scenes with child like glee,
You will see what I can see ,
Life throbbing in each, like it does in you and me!