A Social Butterfly

Social butterfly

A butterfly of humble origin
Fascinated more by fusion
Of colors…cold and impudent
She lived far in her illusions.

Fond of fluttering all the time
Competing with unrealistic goals
Eager to move ahead quicker
Could never live up to her roles.

Living in the realm of her choice
Prudence could scoff at her conceit
Relationships – only for self-adulation
Home – just a haven of self-retreat

Pretense was her favorite outfit
Her attachments were contrived
To get maximum benefits…
Which she easily derived.

Learning to fly with other’s support
Now she leans heavily on her lies
She still expects admiration
From all those she derides!

Up at the horizon
She sits with delusional delight
Leaning heavily on clouds
Forgetting they don’t show even in moonlight.
© Balroop Singh

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Welcome To Our Island Of Fantasy…

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Our train is about to move
Come, hop on… you could be left behind
just like little teddy
But he never bawls,
He sits around and drawls
listening to music…
Oh! Lets put the volume down!
Please wait!

This train can wait for hours
It only moves
when our two-year-old driver directs
sometimes the push is too sudden!
Pixie watches…her moo-moo starts
Suddenly the train breaks into parts
Its breakfast time for everybody,
as Pixie and Suzie are ready

Train journey is instantly abandoned
All attention is towards monkey, still sleeping
So is the giraffe and the elephant.
The snake is hissing around for milk
The knobs and handles of the doors overflow…
Bowls are full of milk
But the monkey starts jumping on the bed!
And as usual, he falls.

There is a big commotion!
Everybody is eager to see what happened
Oh…the monkey has bumped his head.
Duckie rushes to get ice for him,
which is rubbed on his head
He is laughing in no time, jumping again.
Donna and Bunny join him.

Breakfast is forgotten
Jumping spree goes on and on
Many of them get hurt but no crying,
‘NO crying’ is the command of our little Angel,
all conform to it.
Someone opens the wardrobe
there is a big hullabaloo.

Everybody rushes in,
pulling whatever comes in their hand…
out come the hats, the tiaras and the masks
our dear commander asks…
Where is my bug?
The bug takes us into moonlit night
The wardrobe is full of heavenly light
With stars twinkling all around
Everyone watches in delight!

Where is my runaway bunny?
Leaving them all in the lurch
She finds her favorite puzzle
She pulls out all the pieces
spreads them all around the room.
In comes Johny, sugar in hand
Runs all around the house
Followed by Sophia, Minnie and Dolly
Sugar jar drops down
All the din gets drowned…

As Barnyard party is in full swing
All are welcome
It’s so much fun
And it continues…
 

Living in the world of illusion, which is devoid of all the stress…living my childhood once again in the make believe world of my granddaughter and grandson who looks perplexed as he is too little to join us in our barnyard dance…feeling blessed!

 
© Balroop Singh.
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Dead End?

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Attracted by the rosy path
Littered with little primroses
On both the sides…
I took this journey.

It seemed so fascinating
To tread the unknown trail
How could I forget the elation…
The warm words of assurance!

Words…empty words?
Leading me into unknown ventures
Little help, just soft silence…
Pretense of leading, guiding.

This seems to be the dead end
Alone in the wilderness…
Staring at the desolate way
Congregating courage to trudge.

I sit gagged, staring into space
Towards the wilderness
The horizon so close
The rainbow so alluring

Forgetting that rainbow is transitory
And the horizon – a delusion
I still move on!
Who can question my mettle?

Who can doubt my optimism?
Who can distrust my capabilities?
Of making new pathways
Dead end is nothing but an illusion.

©Balroop Singh

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