Poem: Anxious

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The sky is cheerfully active,
The clouds gather in a reunion party,
They thicken in solidarity,
As their mirthful laughter echoes down to earth
With splendid bright flashes.
The wind also plays tricks on the trees
And every thing hanging
They all fold over or bend double in laughter
Making gay noises.

Even the little animals can sniff
The anticipated, in the air,
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Poem: Mischievous thing

I lay and toss, but sleep wouldn’t come.
Toss and toss for a long while,
but I wait… until…
I begin to sense it
By sensing less and less,
I’m yet to snore but I sense nothing more or less,
Except – this buzz, this persistent noise -
this mischievous thing that wouldn’t let me sleep.
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