Tag: philosophy

Poetry

Painting The Town Red.

aveekoiqbalneep

Painting the town red,

The town people celebrated very much ,

That their town had turned one hundred and twenty-five years old.

Painting the town red,

There were lots and lots of celebrations,

Two fun fairs were held,

In which eight carousels were built.

And the toy trains,

Would go chug-chug-chug,

Letting out a bit of steam.

Painting the town red,

The foods stalls were excellent.

The variety of food were superb, marvellous and excellent.

There were tacos, steaks. Enchiladas, ice creams, chips, etc.

The day would be remembered by all,

As the day when all and everything,

Was full of fun and frolic.

And there was a very big surprise gift machine,

Which would pop out a gift for each and every town people.

Adios!

WRITING

In My Prose.

aveekoiqbalneep

I wrote you a letter,

Which you haven’t replied to.

In my prose,

I reminisced that once you had helped me,

But yet you didn’t reply.

I thought maybe you hadn’t received my letter.

I waited and waited.

Atlast the reply came,

It said that-“My friend I am coming to meet you.”

Adios!

Poetry

Happy Birthday To My Dearest Friend Lark.

aveekoiqbalneep

Today is the birthday of my dearest friend Lark,

Who used to play a lot,

And still does.

And was a king of the kings.

A true winner,

And the one who guides,

Is he.

More than a friend,

More than a brother.

A light which can never be extinguished.

We wish him many many happy returns of the day.

Adios!

food

I Smelled The Bread.

aveekoiqbalneep

I smelled the bread,

Made fresh in the oven.

I smelled the bread

It was soft and nice,

Made with pineapple and cinnamon,

There were four loaves,

And the bread’s aroma spread throughout the house.

I couldn’t control myself,

And in a spate of hunger I nearly ate a whole loaf.

I smelled the bread,

And finished the last chunk of it,

By dipping it in fresh warm milk.

Adios!

Uncategorized

Impossibly Hard.

aveekoiqbalneep

Impossibly hard,

Was eating the taco prepared by my friend,

For he can’t even be called an amateur cook.

The taco was not fit for human consumption,

It was not even fit enough to play tic-tac-toe with.

Impossibly hard,

Was to lie to him,

“That your taco is beautiful.”

But at last he spit it out,

And said-“I am sorry. I know the taco tastes like crap.”

Soon, we all went out for having tacos which were truly what can be called –“Tacos”.

Adios!