Poetry: Satbir Chadha

Satbir Chadha

It seemed to me the morning star had left its place in the sky
And planted itself in my small bushy unkempt garden
While the sky was an aubergine dark and the breeze waking the birds
A closer look and lo and behold! It was a tiny white rose 
Bloomed suddenly for I’d never seen a bud either 
Never knew when the plant had taken seed and quietly inconspicuously grown
Between the crowded bushy greens and this last night
This last night was birthed a star 
Like a message from the one who’d been birthed in a manger 
Long long ago 
A tiny rose carrying big hope 
I saw it could devour the dark and spread the light 
Just a single sparkling moist delicate shy rose
It felt like a prayer an answer to a prayer
Reminder of a prayer 
The Lord knows, the Lord gives, the Lord waits for the right time 
Where one came from 
Can more be far behind


The sun had two daughters both tall slim and beautiful 
One was fair and shone like the driven snow
The second has a tan and a charming warm glow
She was so loving though the first one was wise 

Then the sun had a son a lazy bum who spent his time looking at the sun 
This one glowed with radiance golden, chubby cheeks and dimpled chin

Then came another two daughters, first the learned harmonious one
The second a fickle feeble minded dithering dame

The next two were born for no rhyme or reason 
Except that the breeze was oh too dry
And the sky was oh so high
And the sun’s was not to reason why 

Then and thereafter was born the son 
The one with a royal demeanour 
Perhaps he’d become some day a king

The last four children born in old age 
Born to unloving unenthusiastic mates 
Named in a rhyme to save them time 
For the sun had to go to rejuvenation clinic
The four shared between them the wet and the dry 
The hot and the cold the rain and the snow 
And peas porridge hot nine months old 

Packing the siblings in his old ochre chariot
For the Christmas and New Year party 
He banged the door hard and oh so sad
The second daughter’s legs were too long, and went beyond
The length of the chariot, though just a tad 
So sad so sad so sad

They got snipped just above the ankle 
So forever was she stunted
Therefore we have this one month odd
Amputated and truncated
Poor dear February 

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