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i dream of the sea,
whispering like a wild cloud,
stretching the blue air.
Climbing the hills to nowhere
Enjoying each step,
With sweat and exhaustion
Still with smile and joy on our faces;
Rose blooming on everyone's cheek
Top of the mountain, I see
Time comes to an end but with wondérful memories engraved in our brain.
There's spring and there's summer, there's all that's in between
no listless skies of anodyne; now nature flaunts and preens

What beauty fills the hungry eye 'neath a sky of blue, serene
verdant vales soaked in sun, awash in palettes of green

There are pastels that awaken and deep shades that passion brews
created hues that trickle...sprinkled with 'chartreuse'

There's the green of 'asparagus' and that of 'artichokes'
Of 'forest', 'ferns' , of 'moss', a brush of different strokes

Fragrant plants of 'mint', then 'myrtle' and 'green tea'
'Emerald', 'jade' or 'harlequin' and 'malachites' that be

Off creamy shells, just 'pistachio', 'green apples', then of 'pines'
It lies too in 'sap' and 'teal', in 'avocados' and tangy 'lime'

There's green of the 'mantis', in 'jungle', 'hunters' and 'shamrock'
The lithe 'parakeet' fluttering and the lazy sanguine 'croc'

In blessed 'basil', ' pickle', in 'pear', 'olives' in 'bottle green'
'Gourds' and 'peas' that farmers grow in cultivars pristine

'Tis there in 'aqua' and 'seaweed', in the ripple of 'sea green' waves
In 'turtles', 'sea foam', 'anemone' and a 'tropical glistening lake'

From 'laurel green' to an 'army green' , in 'sage' ( a shade of grey )
The color of 'grass' , the murky 'swamp' , hues in array

There's 'neon' and an 'Indian green', a 'Persian' one to mystify
A 'midnight green' to bright 'fluorescent', oh, for green rainbows in the eye
My mom is kind
I want the sky either
In my room, I draw birds
I love your small eyes
I love my mom's hands
I play with mommy's scarves
I can feel the smell of her bag
I remember my childhood dresses
She bought me colorful shoes
somedays
Our hands reach the sky
I hold my mom's hand in my tummy
I'm pregnant with my mom's hands
Mommy is not like granny
And I'll like my mom's ******* in a ****** relation


مادرم مهربان است
من هم آسمان می خواهم
من پرنده ها را در اتاقم نقاشی می کشم
چشم های کوچک تو را دوست دارم
دست های مادرم را دوست دارم
با روسری های مادرم بازی می کنم
بوی کیفش را هنوز احساس می کنم
لباس های کودکی هایم را به یاد دارم
بعضی از روزها برایم کفش های رنگارنگ می خرید
دست های ما به آسمان می رسد
من دست های مادرم را در شکمم نگه می دارم
من دست های مادرم را حامله ام
مادر من شبیه مادربزرگش نیست
و من
در رابطه ای جنسی
...سینه های مادرم را دوست خواهم داشت
i love my mother... :)
I saw...
a huge, open space, arrayed  with pink and
yellow roses and zinnias...there were benches
under trees that  stretched towards a lagoon,
for those gone weary, from their walks...

I saw...
a family...children were playing
on the green, lush carpet grass,
dressed in their bright-colored clothes
of red and yellow,  and blue jeans...
confidently hopping, and tumbling
wearing expensive rubber shoes...while
having bites of sandwiches, and sips of juices...
from a safe distance, seated on a bench, were
the overseers...the parents...as two nannies
kept close watch over the children.......

I saw...
a group of noisy children come in from the streets
running barefooted, feeling the cool, moist grass...
some refused to remove their rubber slippers,
their clothes were old and tattered...too excited,
they jumped.....lay on the grass without a care,
they shrieked, as they climbed and fell from slides,
obviously enjoying their visit....their shouts, their
laughter seemed contagious, the well-endowed
children, stopped their games and observed...

I saw...
how the parents summoned the nannies,
they gathered the children, and all their stuff
then marched towards a less peopled area,
and there, they let their children play....while
they sat on a nearby bench, pulled long sighs,
one after the other...i wondered...were they
exhausted?  or, pricked by their conscience?
were they sighs of relief.......because their
children were now distanced......."safe,"
......from the less fortunate ones?
:::::::::
whatever happened to  noblesse oblige?
are these just two foreign words,
with obsolete meanings?
::::::::::::::


Sally

Copyright March 9, 2017
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
Crossed the river with broken heart
Buckled it with the threads of time.
Thoughts when flew into my breath
Tears went rolling down my pen,
Relieving my heart from extreme twinges.
Feet got impaired as I progressed
While the heartbeats in past dead wood
Wanted to ponder and yonder.
Shabby memories opened its eyes in slumber
While seasons fell off one after another!

© 2016 Geetha Jayakumar. All rights reserved.
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