Mountains ( Aditi Das Bhowmik )

Born in a city small,

Surrounded by mountains tall.

With snowy peaks they stand,

They look magnificently grand,

They stand still, without a move,

Fearless attitude is what they prove.

Whenever I am filled with stress,

I sit to watch the mountain stretch.

Whatever be in life go wrong,

Will come back, if we are strong.

Whether its rain, wind or sun,

With strong will, every battle would be won.

By

( Aditi Das Bhowmik )

Living Room ( Duncan Mcgibbon )

A burnt omelette's, old sweet corn and dishes

stacked at random in the grease-rimed sink.

The children shrill about T.V. wishes.

My daughter cannot thread a needle. Each blink

upsets the thread's frayed edge sideways.

I police them to bed; “face, teeth, lights out”,

having first heard my youngest trace the lettered maze. 

Patient with her at her stress, I want to shout.

I go downstairs, conscious of a sadness,

Velásquez or El Greece could not catch 

in a portrait of the poet with attendant mess,

because the artists had models to match.

Each riddle made of fame spells unique,

a needle for word-threads’ deft hide and seek.

By

( Duncan MCGibbon )