Balcony

Soft winter sunshine on my feet.

Tepid tiles under, I stretch

In my balcony, to watch

Drama of life unfold.

Mother Nature in all its anarchy,

Pesky creepers spare none.

Onward they climb in rebellion.

To bring down the tallest ones.

Mango, Gulmohar and Cashew -

Them trees all are brooding.

Heavy foliage they carry,

With their shoulders drooping.

Only old Major by the side,

Gazes at carnage below.

Green wig, he is tall and slender,

Wise to have no branches low.

Further down, the mighty bay

All the way to Vasco.

Enthralled by the lovely scene,

Round and round coucals disco.

Calm and placid, the sea

Shows a steely resolve.

With not a ripple to unfeather,

Her silvery gray sheen.

Fickle they know her to be,

And now that there’s a chance,

Cruelly slash her across

Fishermen and speed boats.

Weather is out of favour,

And she cannot remonstrate.

Just small thunders on the beach

With every breaking wave.

Tide will pass they know,

Rocks that peekaboo,

And man will know the fury

Of Oceanus’ wrath.