Eid Mubarak! Happy Eid!

As dawn breaks at last,

People stop to fast,

And young and old all go to pray,

For they know it’s a special day.

After Salat Al Eid,

The elder cook and feed,

The children, friends, the guests, themselves,

Taking food from fridge and shelves.

As presents are exchanged,

And kids all run and play,

The people get ready,

For the next phase of the day.

“Ah, sleep!” say the parents,

Getting ready for a nap,

“Playtime!” exclaim children,

As they race and as they clap.

After a rest, and lunch,

And spending hours of noon,

The sky goes pink and purple,

Evening’s coming soon!

Lanterns are lit in splendor,

And aromas are smelt in air,

Some curry, samosas, shish kebab,

Cake, chocolate éclair.

Pouring drinks and piling food,

Onto plates and into glasses,

Adults get ready for work next day,

And children for their classes.

And just like that, next morning,

Eid has just gone away,

Only to come back,

In ten months and a day.

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Photo source: Wikipedia

Don't be overconfident

If you are grown up
And think you are sweet,
Then take off your shoes
And smell your feet!

The Clown

The audience clapped,
The ring was cleared,
And then blue clown appeared.

His coat was navy,
His hat was crude,
His eyes were blue,
So was his mood.

A raincloud blue as blue can be,
Was lowered over a stormy sea,
A puny raft was set afloat,
Too small to be called a simple boat.

The clown grimaced and set sail,
Flying away as he reached a gale,
Showered with stones of icy hail,
Somehow dodging a drowsy whale.

The storm was over,
Out rose the sun,
The raft was there,
The clown had gone.

His coat was navy,
His hat was crude,
That’s all that’s left,
He’s whale food.

The Sea

Green and blue and a children’s tanned peach,
The sea is always at the beach,
Young and old and splashes and shouts,
A favorite of all, no doubt.

Swirls and twirls and a ship’s sandy brown,
The sea wears waves like a rippling gown,
Sails imitate the water,
Upon the deck the sailors saunter.

The sandcastles rise to the height of the kids,
Sandy fingers open water bottle lids,
Quench their thirst, then back to work,
While under the castles shadows murk.

The crew and the latter take to the oars,
Spotting at once their motherland’s shores,
Making their own waves that stifle the others,
While sudden aches overcome the brothers.

The tide rises with its fury,
Sea foam and bubbles hurry,
Crushing castles to the sand,
Smoothing down the bumpy land.

The waves resist,
They bark and hiss,
A storm arises,
The ship despises.

The wild beach on which we stand,
The calmest sea, the smoothest sand,
Is where this story is preserved,
The story that may sound absurd.

Impossible that the sea breathes,
For it’s as dead as autumn leaves,
It has no say, it has no power,
To do more than give swimmers a shower.

But looking closely you might spy,
A twinkle in the sunset’s eye,
Just as it descends into the night,
You’ll see the sea’s face in that light.