The Cursed Pirate

He had always lived the hard way
and became famous by the day
A ship is what he wanted to be on
how he liked to sail on the high seas
but then his habits came haunting
when he set sights on the treasures
that sailed the seas with men on it.

Once he raided a ship with his buccaneers
full of chests, this one belonged to a King
he had always dreamed of, to conquer one
all this shiny wealth would be his, if only,
he could reach home by the green islands
but for the curse of the captain and his crew
who got slaughtered with their cutlasses
thrown to the seas for the waves to bury.

A storm was brewing in the distant sky
it could hit them this week or the next
they all spent drinking the stolen liquor
went into a stupor that lasted many a day
it was when, someone noticed a patch
on his skin which turned into a rumor
they would all overthrow their chief
for the disease would cause havoc
if allowed to run its usual course.

The next day, they started an argument
the pirate was prepared, having noticed
the patch on his skin and their reactions
With his flaming pistol, wrecked them all
before the calamity could strike them
throwing their bodies and guiding the ship
through channels of rocks and great fish.
The storm hit him and his ship  for days.
the ship wrecked when it hit the rocky land
though it was an island, he did not despair.

He got himself occupied carrying the chests
full of gold and silver, emeralds and rubies
and buried them in deep holes dug by him
when the job mighty done, was he happy?
but the next day, the disease knocked him
the ration of fresh water and fruits dried up
the curse of the plunder came back to haunt
he was rich but the wealth of no use now
his body lay dried in the sun on the rocks
searching for dear water, when all around
it splashed in fury not giving him a chance.

 

 

 

 

The gardener

It is a hot summer day and the plants are waiting for you to water them. Duty-bound as you are, you have already got up, and are pulling the lines of rubber pipes that would carry life giving water to each of those trees and shrubs that you had lovingly planted.

The strip of land that you had bought long back brings back memories of your youth. You had never known then that at one point of time you would come back to this very strip and grow plants in abundance, so much so, that the sun would need to take an appointment if he wanted to grace you with his sunshine. You wander among the bushes to do the final round of checks to see that these pipes have not got entangled and are laid properly and would not damage the fledgling bushes that you had taken so much care to bring up in the last few weeks.

All looks proper as you survey the long network of pipes neatly laid out that would now start transporting the water as it gushed through them. You take the shovel in your hand to make the finishing touches for plants around their roots so that they could have more water as it would come in turns towards them.

The wind is gently blowing carrying it with shades of warm and cool air, as it sifts through the dense network of branches and leaves. There are some sparrows on the ground chit chatting and waiting for you to turn on the motor so they could enjoy frolicking in the water that would present itself at any moment from now before them.

A squirrel jumps just in time, as you make your way toward the shed that lodges the motor pump that would draw the water from the pond. In the olden days, you had to be alert as there were no pipes and then canals made out of the sand would do their job in assisting you with the gardening process. You had to be on the look out lest any of those sand canals would give away before your very eyes.

You switch on the motor, amble across to the bushes till someone who watches you loses sight of you. You take the end of the rubber hose and start watering the plants, the roots, the branches and the leaves and sometimes playfully at the sparrows who all love you for what you are…images

Wait at the Watch

Walking hours nay days in rustling grass

I arrive at the bottom of a watch tower.

I am not sure dear should I climb them

I ask to none being lost in this jungle.

The bottle slung with water long gone

Slinging berries on the way didn’t help.

Now and then distant roars evokes fear

Just as my aching feet cry out for rest.

I hope to get some rest as I climb up

Away from the wild roaming animals.

We can run no more dear say my legs

Much less walk or any such feat.

These steps are the last I assure

Till help arrives or a miracle dawns.

I climb up on to the watch area

Where sits an old smiling jaguar.

So you arrived visitor, welcomes he

How can he talk in my sweet tongue?

This must be a jungle dream for me

come true with jingles for wild him.

Look I have come for rest, plead I

And I frequent here for old prey.

Pray could you spare me please

And how would that benefit me?

Say I could not offer you much

But in you is an offer good to resist.

Sad not any more, we are two souls

Awaiting a new life as we wait.

You died long ago in this misty woods

I waited like a mystic here for prey

Till death found me before I could pray…

Be wiser healthwise

Enough now time for a change

Get out from your cosy bed

Go on a walk or a jog or a run

Turn blind to whatever distracts

The television or your cell phone.

Look at the trees and the birds

The Sky and the floating clouds

Into the eyes of those who bypass

Pass a dear smile for who knows

They need it just as you needed

This morning freshen up walk.

Morning walk in the woods
Courtesy: Shutterbug