HOME, SWEET HOME

HOME SWEET HOME 1

When our bus passing through hills,

Village clay homes situate under tree-shades

At slops of valleys, morning sunlight admires

Presence of these peaceful spirits,

One example free from flat-culture, lane or by lane pits,

Where we are dwelling in crowded fields,

Concrete walls and roofs kick sunrays

Into unhappy geeks, rotten heritage as proof.

Away from town, in sublime score of serenity,

These clay homes are beautiful shelters those turn

Into abode of nature’s creation whose dwellers

Can be proud of being share holders of the earth,

We cannot follow this track, we are tourists here,

We are habituated in factory, chimney, and computers

In the loop of livelihood, tumbled is serenity in our homes,

These clay homes are pristine abode of blues, sweet in our eyes.