CHECK-MATED (Poem)

Woman's Era - - Contents - – Usha Dip­tivi­lasa.

Singing a sweet melody At day­break, with ec­stasy, To catch the early worm The free bird soars the sky lis­some. Then to quickly check Her glee­ful young egg Perch­ing, takes a flavour­ful peck Of the juicy sun soaked fruit speck. The caged bird, watch­ing The glo­ri­ous sun ris­ing, Rages she can never dip her wing In the azure bathed in or­ange tinge And with a wing so wet Paint her whole world scar­let. She can­not fly, she can­not perch On the top­most branch of the bountiful birch. Pac­ing up and down her nar­row cage She can­not but show her rage. Peck­ing at the heart­less grill She opens her throat to trill. But soon ceases, de­jected Know­ing she’s got check-mated. Next morn­ing she yet again trills She hopes for the free sky still Imag­ines of end­less good out farther Stand­ing in­side her own sepul­chre.

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