Monday, January 1, 2018




Walking along the messy street
that led to the green
I would halt for a moment
and sit on the bench
that stood beside the canal
to peep at the eyes of the strangers
who passed by
to immerse myself in the nostalgic sentiments
to ponder over how cruel life had been
Only to be awaken by the rattle of the chain
gripped in my hand
My puppy with its warm canine whimpers
and soft howls
would alarm me
while wagging its tail restlessly
I would suddenly recover
from the figment of the wild imagination
that could well jeopardize the whole soul
As my puppy would tickle my toes
with its tiny tender tongue
That soothing feel, that very intimacy
would make me want to start walking again
to the green
Thank you puppy,
for not letting me cease to be!


In a glamorous morning,
a gorgeous flower had blossomed
with a ferocious texture of vermillion glow
Glinting dews on feathery petals
bursting in brilliance like sequins
with its soothing velvet touch
Swarms of bees buzzing around
for hunting and gathering pollen
mesmerized by its amorous delicacy

But, a few days later,
in a traumatic evening,
the flower had withered
Its splendour vanished
in a yellowish brown pallor
Petals not vigorous enough
to bear the dews and about to fall apart
And the sepals dried off
No bees to dash above the dead stigma
Thus the once glorious flower had faded away.


The giant mango tree on the rear lawn
towers above the window in my room upstairs
Beneath its canopy, laid on a limb, there is the bird nest
A small family – the mother, father and the son
In the evenings, when the sky turns primrose
with the golden moon peering above the distant hills
I hear some tweeting sounds coming from the nest
Then I rush towards the window
I see the tiny bill – wide open, rising above the nest wall
saying a thousand little things to its mother
who pats the baby head with her soft slender neck
In a while, the father’s shadow emerges from the distance
with some wild berries clipped between the mandibles
fluttering his wings more hastily seeing home
As he lands on the nest, the mother welcomes him
tenderly kissing his sturdy neck
Then both start cuddling their son
They chop the berries with their beaks
and feed the baby with the bits
who gulps them down
while relishing the very warmth.
Oh, I am so happy that I have been
lucky enough to witness this nest of love!


INDUNIL MADHUSANKHA (B. H. I. Madhusankha) is currently an undergraduate in the Faculty of Science of the University of Colombo. Even though he is academically involved with the subjects of Mathematics and Statistics, he also pursues a successful career in the field of English language and literature as a budding young researcher, reviewer, poet and content writer. Basically, he explores the miscellaneous complications of the human existence through his poetry by focussing on the burning issues in the contemporary society. Moreover, Indunil’s works have been featured in several international anthologies, magazines and journals.

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