I observe in protest

My heart pains, agony writhes my conscience,
An hour in darkness I observe in protest,
And long hours under hot sprinkling, without any prescience.

The ruthless felling -contorts and strains my being,
I raise my voice, argue making my presence felt,
No scruples encumber as I set fonts in ink unflinching.

Random scraps from mindless indiscretion,
My soul stirs with wrath failing to comprehend,
My body embroils in laze mindful of the tactless jettison.

Let us strive to do our bit for Mother Earth.

Sweet Summers of Yore

A fruity aura that floods memory and bedazzles,
A joy that palpitates with sweet summers of yore.
An aura that seduces, teases and puzzles,
A feeling that blinds the conscious and makes the soul soar.

Colours of pleasure and a texture of elation,
Colours of blush daubed across by a flirting sun.
Shouts in earnest and of perspiration,
Livelihood perched on head - basket of marvel and fun.

Titillating the tongue, a heavenly ordain,
Sometimes sweet and sometimes oh-so mildly and pleasantly tartly,
It is that time of year again,
Alphonso in all verve, joys limitlessly and pleasures profusely!