Friday, 26 August 2016


Scorching is the sun
And dry is the win’
I am left the last one
Of my kith and kin.

I’m born a green speck
On my mother bough
I am not to bedeck
Like sister flowers I love.

Though born before
Sister flower is the one
Endowed from times yore
With all hues under sun.

Always provided food
To my entire family
Scorched by sun I stood
But I served affably.

None granted a favour
Nor did I ask for any
Dignity, I saw in labour
Comfort? I care tuppenny.

Scorching sun takes toll
Dries up my abode
Hanging by thread of soul
Watching spirits erode.

Parched and dry is my skin
Crackling is my voice
Nary a brother nor a kin
To prance, sing, and rejoice.

Not much time left for me
To give up and let go
Sibs on branch, I don’t see
Withered they have, Lo!

Gust of wind begins to blow
Severing my ties with nest
Plummet I to ground below
My last journey on the planet.