Friday, 4 November 2011

Sonnet for the soul

 An armed monarch,  order’d his horse a momentary freeze

 At the sight of an old man who sure had a skeleton and skin

 Sitting curled, like a circle in the freezing cold and teasing breeze

 He had none to cover, yet had a warm grin to wear and win

The conqueror, irked, tossed a shawl as alms in regal beckon

 ‘None I take from beggars’ said the naked to the startled king

 ‘For one who needs is the needy and I need none’

 ‘You still need territory, O beggar!’ said the Solomon’s ring

 Attitude galore yields altitude for sure and true majesty

 Riches real are in the mind and not in the external find

 Many he owns, spend he does and makes money today aplenty   

 Does he then stop these in the day next with a satiated mind?

 Skies shower rain, air blows life and silken stars shine

 The best things of life have no bill ever, for you to whine