Valsa George Poems

With a philosophic bent of mind
To his thoughts he was confined
Instead of loving his wife
He pondered over life
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Left alone in a twilight zone
I am enveloped in a rare stillness
In the monotonous regularity of grinding chores
In the monochrome of existence
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He went home gaily after a few pegs
Fell onto his bed dangling his soiled legs
Blissfully fell asleep soon
His wife came calling him 'loon'
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Limericks are no more taught in schools
As they are thought fit only for fools
Poetic skills they don't hone
Sadly they are left alone
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She heard the sound of pigeons overhead
Looking up she saw them whirling and gyrating
Forming newly emerging patterns in the sky
They soared on and on
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In a whiff of salubrious morning air
The flowers in my garden looked all too fair
They had an unseen radiant gleam
And resembled the ones I had in my dream
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Writing of a poem
Oh! How it can be likened
To having a baby!

With the copulation of fancy and thought,
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Under the green sods, lie unknown
The mighty warriors of our land.
Strong and steadfast they marched to the field,
Wielding weapons in their hand.
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If you wish to win your man's heart somehow
Show interest rolling your admiring eyes,
As he raves over the pet subjects of his choice,
Occasionally responding to what he says.
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When the sun glowed warm with brighter sheen
The Earth that lay inert in drunken sleep
Woke up suddenly to greet the glorious dawn
Casting aside the blanket of fluffy wool
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