Assemblage of heavenly blue

The sky with its tinge of heavenly blue,
The sky which is coherent and true.
The sky so beautiful with its purplish face,
The sky that can conquer the human race.
The sky so sweet at lemonade,
The sky that can bring the earth an adolescent grade.
The sky that helps at the time of drought,
The sky that causes newborn seeds to sprout.
The sky that can bring crackling floods,
Doing so can shed a lot of blood.
The sky black and swollen near the river bank,
Hungry clusters of flower expecting all they can.
The drops of pelting water all hope for,
The sheets of rain showers already gone.
The sky with it protuberant legs stretched,
The sky that can get a house creshed.

poem by Nikhil Parekh
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Indefatigable Nature

The white semi crescent luminates large in the sky,
Suspended in the jet black pool of atmosphere,
The starts glitter in unison,
As black wisps of clouds hang around.

Awesome masses of air blow gustily,
Bundles of molecules gasp collectively,
Stringent voices blow mightily,
As thunderous core of lechery comes pouring down.

Macro droplets of liquid break into frenzy,
Torrential rain cascades all over,
Drenching fresh granules of earth,
Softening parched rocks of violent composition,
Trespassing waywardly through molten fiascos of heat,
Harrowing the elixir of humanity,
Soothing the edifices of brutal racism,
Shattering glass panes of heinous felonies,
As I watch the proceedings in mute silence.

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poem by Nikhil Parekh
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Let a child smile

Let a child blissfully grow,
Don’t try and obstruct his natural flow.
Let a child sleep,
Don’t try and break his dreams.
Let a child run,
Don’t try and smack his ear-drum.
Let a child confidently walk,
Don’t try and lure him with your talk.
Let a child create,
Don’t try and teach him to hate.
Let a child be innocent,
Don’t try and show him the art of disguise.
Let a child be naughty,
Don’t try and instruct him to be haughty.
Let a child play,
Don’t try and intentionally spoil his day.
Let a child make mistakes,
Don’t try and show him the stick.
Let a child roam in Sunlight,
Don’t try and hide him from the bright.

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poem by Nikhil Parekh
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Swimming Pool

The crystal water looked marvelously blue,
shining like a glowworm in the infectious moonlight,
filled in a hexagon tank lined with pure sandstone,
with,
stainless metal slides converging down from amazing
heights,
long strips of diving board for a headlong plunge,
crisscrossed threads of netlon bifurcating it into
equal halves,
large injections of disinfectant added at fixed
intervals of time,
cozy changing rooms stacked with luxury towel,
mega perfume canisters for swimming in ecstasy,
inflated circular rings of rubber for wading through
the deep,
an ambience of pine tree and sprawling lawn proved
more than conducive,
the swimming pool was a treat to the eye in blistering
heat of the summer
month.

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poem by Nikhil Parekh
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Tranquil green pastures

Tender green tufts of emerald green sponge,
riveted firmly to fertile landscapes of earth,
dancing to sedate tunes of swashbuckling breeze,
growing at rapid paces in a blend of manure and fresh
water,
feasting on nutritious rays of unadulterated sunlight,
greedily devouring tap water sprinkled at spaced
intervals of time,
glowing sedately in artificial lights of sodium bulb,
submerged in ponds of placid moonshine,
a bountiful warehouse of red ant and earth worm,
the green grass meadows were a breathtaking sight,
oblivious to the vagaries of jet paced life.

Cows grazed quietly trampling the grass cushions,
Long beaked cranes nibbled at pieces of left over
corn,
Wild pigs gulped loads of untreated sewage,
Petite fleshy ducks floated in tank water,
Thoroughbred horses galloped in enclosures of wire

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poem by Nikhil Parekh
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Hair Cutting Saloon

Thick mirrors of transparent glass,
slates of graphite stuck to wall,
big bottles of shaving foam,
flammable containers of liquid spray,
a tetra assembly of royal chairs,
with protruding headrests of cushioned rexin,
fluorescent light rods producing blue light,
arrays of scissors made of stainless steel,
razor switch blades in plastic shells,
brown hairbrush with artificial teeth,
polygonal cans of medicated shampoo,
soft white towels dipped in hot steam,
aromatic hair oil in copper tins,
giant clock hung to wall nail,
electronic hair drier suspended from a jugglery of
wires,
wooden boxes of talcum powder,
tantalizing odour of body cologne,
huge paint brush coated with black dye,
rectangular green tablets of antiseptic soap,

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poem by Nikhil Parekh
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Perfect Scenery-Cloud's end

Here as i sit with network of green to surround,
the Falcon soaring high in the blue sky,
a blanket of dew drops on the fresh green leaves,
shining a perpetual golden brown.

the silence and tranquility of the blissful air,
blueberry flowers on steep slopes of valley,
causing mystical ravines of my heart to flood with
beauty and sizzling
excitement,
the magic touch of heavenly green spreads all over,
there follows a heavy downpour of tropical rain,
macro droplets of water cascade everywhere,
with the grass blades crying out in anticipation to
swallow the rain drops,
clear and transparent, quenching their thirst for
divine blessings,
leaving them submerged in a river of celestial love.

tall pine trees had their drooping branches covered

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poem by Nikhil Parekh
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A Child smiles

Only in a world of freedom,
Can a child unfold and bloom.

Only with the sun piercing right through the dark hut,
Can a child see the wonderful sights of this world.

Only in an ocean of unprejudiced love,
Can a child speak to its heart's content.

Only through the eyes of soft empathy,
Can a child see its true reflection.

Only in surroundings of unadulterated society,
Can a child open its mind wholesomely and dream.

Only when applauded at its tiniest achievement,
Can a child come to know its hidden potential.

Only in lanes without propagation of caste,
Can a child recognize its own identity.

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poem by Nikhil Parekh
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Whisky complexioned hair wig

I was born with a thick shock of curly hair,
Silky strands of light brown cascading down my scalp,
Broad outlines of eyebrow fringe,
They were my pride; cuddled on infinite occasions by my mother,
Glistening in sunshine like pure black shoe polish paint,
Caressing minute regions of my skull in breeze blowing with high velocity,
Mingling once in a while with the delicate periphery of my inverted eyelash,
Sighted as a puffed bunch of dark cushion by all in close proximity,
I always kept them shampooed and scrupulously clean,
Sobbed hysterically in private interiors of my room,
When a cluster of school mates harmlessly plucked a few,
I was obsessed with the concept of evergreen hair growth,
Slept all night with tight fitted shower cap clinging to my garden of hair.

Those whirlwind days of youth had now faded,
Unwanted vigils of old age had crept in at amazing speeds,
Bald patches of skin now sparkled in sunlight,
Resembled rich quality pure wax in pearly light of the moon,
The hair which once inhabited my scalp,
Now lay dumped; perhaps under stagnant waters of the city sewer,

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poem by Nikhil Parekh
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The power of my love

If you ventured to leap from unprecedented heights of
the building,
the power of my love would stop you from colliding
with the earth.
if you thought of consuming vials of deadly snake
poison,
the power of my love would transform it into golden
herbs revitalizing life.
if you planned to severe the bunch of blissful veins
on your wrist,
the power of my love would replace them with
impenetrable sheets of metal.
if you pondered on pursuing nefarious paths of
lechery,
the power of my love would freeze your footsteps
violently midway.
if you dreamt of driving your automobile at breakneck
speeds,
the power of my love would impregnate your persona
from all sides,

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poem by Nikhil Parekh
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