Sunday, October 5, 2014

The Yellow Truck

In the backyard,
Among the beetles and boxes,
Broken bottles and bright sunlight,
The yellow truck glistened.

It sped through,
The wilting lilies and tall grasses,
Whizzing past the rickety chair of grandma,
And spicy sunbathing pickle bottles.

It turned turtle quiet a few times.
Banging into many a feet and furniture.
Screaming children and scolding parents,
Scurrying out of its way.

It sped through,
On four red wheels,
Two wooden planks,
Yellow in colour,
The yellow truck.

It had no engine, no power
Only little hands moved it and
Small legs ran with it, gave it speed.
And leaped over hurdles.
Squeals of laughter were the horns
And tired little bodies, the brakes.

It sped through.
It amazed them,the little beings.
Irritated adults.
Entertained toothless gramps.
Simple, plain, unadorned.
The yellow truck.

Written on 5th October, 2014.

( Hi.. I am back :) No complaints and no usage of the word "long" with varied no. of "o". The poem is inspired by a friend who told me story about his yellow truck one of the very few toys he had and how it was so simple and made of  wood ..and not like todays' toys so complicated and sophisticated. He had the most fun with it and amazing thing is his nephew inherited the truck from him and used to play with it. Taking a deep breath and remembering childhood days and reliving the simple joys and fun times is one of our favourite pastimes. Those were the days !! So this festive season (all the ads are saying that :P ) follow the KISS principle..keep it simple stupid !! :) Happy Id and Happy Diwali !! :) )