A home I never forget (after Poem of the week: Godhuli Time by Srinivas Rayaprol)

                  

    

        Past five in the evening, when dark sets in,

          Sun rays evasive, back in its orb, bird  calls

          gathering clan to their hard-built coves,

           Cottages, high vaulted roofs, reflect smells

           Incense in sanctum sanctorum, when  coal

           and fire wood about to be doused, burn their parts;

            those going back home, for fresh shower,

            young and newly wed after their stay in park,

             homemade coffee and grandma’s rosery bead

            in sanctum sanctorum, home work in slate

            and pencil practice –by children well -tutored

            by rigorous teachers trained by disciplined scales.

              Away from home, away from temple chime,

              far away from my motherland, my heart beats

             with the rhyme of ancestral soil and lineage

              ringing time and again, singing glory and kudos

              to Victorious  land of labor  and sacrifice.