(Photo of Harjeet Singh)

 

"Apologies on this orb and in Paradise forever"

 

Children in a body were gamboling.

So honest-to-God were not in on, what’s going on. 

Not sentient of pros and cons were rambling. 

Under unlighted trees with singsong tone

Rubbernecked vertically but not horizontal zone

They began to raise stones, so small řsts missing desired aim. 

Unwisely a rock ran into hermit’s head, sitting aside lone

Drawn-out meditation was disrupted in fruit gaining game. 

Anger rose up  right away, to whom hermit was to blame.

 

Red eyes what with breaking link with God

Who dared to take step, but no reply came. 

And pause in breath, as no courage to afford,

Little souls in a blue funk bowed their heads in shame.

Red stamps changed into lividness, as they were tame.

And spoke shrinkingly in unison, ‘now stricken what you would shower

As trees purveyed after clash,’ changed his mind’s frame 

‘Anything you can demand, no, no! mere apologies as our dower

Little souls! go now, apologies on this orb and in Paradise forever’.

 

 

 

Imaginative Wings

 

Saints are owner of Third Eye

But we people have imaginative wings

burdened with excogitation.

Creative mind belched some fragments of literary findings

But now I am mystified,

What did it begin to exhale?

At times, it snoops into other affairs

Perhaps because I have been a ghost

of creative work.

Whenever I passed by some readymade costumes market

I always felt prompted because of

some favored graphs and lines on habiliments

And purchased them with sudden choice

and impromptu pocket(funds)

But now what happens to me,

Whenever I close my eyes to augur

pant-shirt combination:

Clothes, curves on them and matching,

sought by my own imaginative wings

Like a dress designer,

dangle before my closed eyes.

And I run to find out,

But still they are not available.

 

© Harjeet  Singh

 

Bio:  Harjeet Singh is an Indian English poet and short story writer. He has earned a Master's degree in English from his district college Hoshiarpur (Punjab). His father, Principal "Joginder Singh,” was an ardent lover of the English language, and his guidelines have made Harjeet able to grasp some of the fundamentals of this language. His work has appeared in U.S and Indian magazines. He is the denizen of district Hoshiarpur (Punjab).