An Auto Ride

The hands of the clock move to five,
It’s time for me to get out of the hive.
I rush downstairs to the parking lots
for a ride home in the autorickshaw

The meter’s down; we’re on our way.
And on the road, there’s a lot of traffic.
With a loud honk, a red bus passes by:
the auto brakes – missing a motorbike.

It bumpity bumps over all the potholes
like the little cars at a car-racing show.
Now on the highway, it picks up speed
and I wobble like jelly on the back seat.

Up and down the bridges, we roller coast,
moving in a sea of loud beeps and honks.
O what a ride! What a thrilling ride it is!
In the little auto on the city’s big streets.

Here comes the house and then it ends.
The meter stops and the fare is paid.
Butterflies and prayers are laid to rest as
I look forward to the ride on another day.

The Storm

The night was dark.
The wind did howl.
The streets were empty.
The tramps didn’t prowl.
The sea was wild
with waves so high.
And in the fields
the flowers died.
The sky showered
great big drops
that filled the streets
and lashed tree tops.
The children wailed.
The mothers prayed,
“O Lord save us all
from this rainy hell!”

Rainy Days

Pitter patter fall the drops
from the skies non-stop.
Swift and fast comes the rain.
Clouds are overhead again.

Out come raincoats.
Out come umbrellas.
Out come the gumboots
and brandy from cellars.

Little children on the roads
shout and jump with the toads.
And worried mothers everywhere
cry out, “Come here! Come here!”

An earthy smell is in the air
as snakes and bugs give a scare.
Rivers and waterfalls overflow
and the sky is lit with a rainbow.

Peacocks dance and sing aloud.
All around the mist does shroud.
Brooding hearts sing out again.
Rainy days are here to stay!