Another way to channelize expression of one’s inner, I found, was writing poetry. I especially adore complex sentence structures and try to inculcate what I learn from people all the way. I have authored quite a lot of poems, but many of them have been hidden in school records. I present here all those that I have with me. (My handwriting is nice too!)
We had a story “The Best Christmas Present in the World”, actually an excerpt from Thomas Hardy’s Far from the Madding Crowd. It showed Sergeant Troy, a soldier. It was about the two army fronts (at war, but on a Christmas day holiday) coming together to play a game and rejoice the festival, despite the grim war. So we were supposed to write a letter from Sergeant to the opposite team, about whatever we wanted to convey as Christmas greetings. So here:
A MESSAGE OF PEACE
A hundred delicacies in a Christmas feast
A hundred nations fuss for feat
The way each dish has its own flavour
Each realm asserts its own grandeur
Yet the ecstasy of the whole fiesta
Is like the fullness savoured by worship in Bethesda
Rejoice together as one blooming bud,
We all are sons of the same flesh and blood
He devised us to form the grace of this land Not mar His own creation with a metal strand
Let's not stain this pure, white snow
Of this Christmas and the next
Care for the mothers, wives and daughters who know
How to care and dwell in solace
The gay spirits of Christmas cannot be undone by the subtle irony...
Merry Christmas, Tommies
And hope this Christmas turns out to be MERRY
- We had a nature poetry competition where I bagged the 1st place. Here:
The universe evolved after the Big Bang,
Generating all the energy present on earth today.
But when god tuned up his harp, it sang,
All the colours present in our lives this day.
These colours of happiness,
Could not just be scattered around.
Your Highness had to think of a way,
To get them bound.
Thus, was this beauty created,
And named partly after father’s bow.
Raindrops disperse their colours, as a mark of respect to the Sun,
And so was the incarnation called Rainbow.
When the arc of emotions sets across the sky,
Some still believe the evolution was from a gold pot.
The elder and younger all say “My, my”,
Such is the bow which cannot be knot.
VIBGYOR, as is the mnemonic,
Fills itself in His painting palette.
God, at the verge of being harmonic,
Strokes it out on the sky canvas with all his talent.
The rainbow covers all the minds,
Wraps them in its envelope, alike,
From top to bottom does it wind,
Filling with joy whenever in sight.
It tells us,
Not to underestimate white,
From which develops the magnificent spectrum,
Of the numerous peacock lights.
The sky loves the rainbow,
As it forms its grace and charm.
Though how able human may be,
He cannot grow it on his farm!
(The heading means rainbow in Spanish)