Friday, April 20, 2012

Fly away birdie

Weary wings, burdened, heavy...
Fluttering to fly far away,
farewell to high flights, oh sweet birdie,
tiedth to thy nest art thou today.
Little ones await thy warmth birdie,
living their dreams through thy eyes.
Thy acts encrypth, their future birdie,
thy breath.... their life....
Mother thou art, oh sweet birdie,
most nobel, generous being of all.
Thy life nay not thy ownth birdie
Belongth to thy little ones.... thy all....



I have three children.
Two boys and a girl.
The youngest is 32 weeks old and the eldest 32 years.

There is a fine line between being a mother and a wife....
I love being that woman; playing both rolls... 'mostly the mother'.... 
But my boys demand so much attention, that the little girl within gets neglected the most. This poem is for her....

3 comments:

  1. Nivedita you always have something beautiful to say about everything! And you have this wonderful gift of gab.
    On appropriating Shakespearean diction:it adds tradition to individuality and creates an impact of timelessness.
    I love your work.

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  2. On a different note: The use of age old convention makes one feel as if you are secretly mocking at your own conventional wisdom :)The 'little girl' pops up though those extra "ths" and chides mother for her partiality...

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  3. dearest nivedita,
    firstly 'diary of nobody' is always filled with emotions and responsibility and diary of nobody is every female's emotions. very few can express and very some lucky can express in such beautiful rhyming lines. while reading 'maan bharun yeta'
    iloved it very much.
    aai

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