Here is one I published earlier.
When I think about her,
My eyes go all blur,
A thought takes over my mind,
And I become blind...
Blinded by her love,
Ah, so pretty like a dove,
A shoulder to cry on,
A friendship to rely on.
Pampered by her care,
Her warmth so rare,
Strength to hide behind
When fear takes over my mind
Every day she grows a bit older,
But the same strength on her shoulder,
She gets some white hair,
But, smile still full of glare.
God moulded her heart of gold,
She is so caring yet so bold.
She is the shining star in my life,
Not only is she a great mother,
But an excellent wife.
The twin in my brain.
I have always tried to have a normal life,
Then, why do I have to live on the edge of a knife?
I swear, I am not a threat,
I am nice, and you can bet.
It is not my fault,
Then, why do I get hit my thunderbolts?
It is just my stupid mind,
It makes me go blind.
The twin in my brain,
Ties me with a chain.
I just have a double personality disorder,
That makes me cross the border.
I become a different person,
And it worsens the situation.
Once I will have a cure,
I will be normal, for sure.
I wrote about this topic as I find this disease to be really interesting; it is really fascinating how you have two souls in one mind.
So caring, Yet so bold
When I think about her,
My eyes go all blur,
A thought takes over my mind,
And I become blind...
Blinded by her love,
Ah, so pretty like a dove,
A shoulder to cry on,
A friendship to rely on.
Pampered by her care,
Her warmth so rare,
Strength to hide behind
When fear takes over my mind
Every day she grows a bit older,
But the same strength on her shoulder,
She gets some white hair,
But, smile still full of glare.
God moulded her heart of gold,
She is so caring yet so bold.
She is the shining star in my life,
Not only is she a great mother,
But an excellent wife.
For you Mom, hope you have a happily ever after in your life.
Happy Birthday.
- R.Sapra
Boooorrriiinnng!!!
I see a paper with another paper, the paper with another paper has another paper on top. The paper with another paper with another paper has another paper on top. The paper with another paper with another paper with another paper has another paper on top. The paper with another paper with another paper with another paper with another paper has another paper on top. The paper with another paper with another paper with another paper with another paper with another paper has another paper on top. The paper with another paper with another paper with another paper with another paper with another paper with another paper has another paper on top. The paper with another paper with another paper with another paper with another paper with another paper with another paper with another paper has another paper on top.
Care
Each poem is written by glorious hands,
Sometimes poetry is not even planned.
Each and every word written with care,
It will never cause you any despair.
Poetry will never demand a command,
Poetry is never bland, always grand.
It will even become your chair,
All you have to do is treat it with care.
Poetry will even become another hand.
It will always be part of your band.
Poetry will even share its glare,
It will even make diamonds out of thin air.
Just treat poetry with care:
And it will share.
- Reet Sapra
The Monkey Cliff
Five little monkeys jumping off a cliff,
One fell down and became all stiff,
Hurt his brain and broke his bones,
No more monkeys jumping off a cliff.
Four little monkeys jumping off a cliff,
One fell down and became all stiff,
Stabbed his heart and broke into pieces,
No more monkeys jumping off a cliff.
Three little monkeys jumping off a cliff,
One fell down and became all stiff,
Burst his lungs and broke his nose,
No more monkeys jumping off a cliff.
Two little monkeys jumping off a cliff,
One fell down and became all stiff,
Snapped his veins and sprained his hand,
No more monkeys jumping off a cliff.
One little monkey jumping off a cliff,
One fell down and became all stiff,
Pricked his eye and bruised himself,
No more monkeys.
The Translated version of Smell Of Home
Home smells spices
Peppers, cardamom and cloves,
All the smell coming from the stove,
Your tongue starts to ring
But still want more
Does the house smell of sugar
Cookies, chocolate, cinnamon rolls,
Smell coming from a light blue bowl,
Your sweet tooth starts to hurt.
But still want more
It smells spicy
Onions, garlic, shallot,
Amazing smell coming from the pot,
Your eyes start to water.
But still want more
The house is fishy
Sweet, sour and spicy
All the ingredients are jingle
Tingling tongue
But still want more
Open the door
You smell the love you really like.