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	Published Poetry -Sahitya Akademi

	Lady Kingfisher Brown
	by Shelly Jyoti I have a tree in my backyard Clustered with fresh leaves Olive and sap green Gnarled branches -knobby Umbrella like red flowers Hibiscus in botany Its spring again Freshness in air My soul inside With wet mud Stimulates… I push open the window Oblivious of the stir In all its serenity Perched a good looking Lady King Fisher Plump and pregnant Resplendent and magnificent In Plumage so colorful Amazingly brilliant! A therapeutic past time A blue feathered bird Beautifully streamlined Poise and grace Taking stock of each flight A visitor to my backyard It takes my breath away For reasons unknown I sit by my window For hours together Watching her parked Whole day long A musical delight Just like a song One fine morning I wake up to see A scrawly baby bird Amidst the bushes of tree Mama bird assuaging Her ravenous offspring Raucous appeal to food Slowly and carefully From bill to bill Feeds the little one Anxiously still A delight – so true Tot to hold A sight to behold! Of-course it's true, Subsequent day Mama bird sprightly and swift Flitting .cheekily twig to twig I saw the baby about To take its first flight Mama bird looking Bewildered at sight We watched .. ..its peregrinations With great trepidation And baby bird passed Its first flight to survival Sat me in my window With abated breath Saw mama bird Pride with marvel! Next morning the nest was abandoned The mama and babe had flown away The story goes on like this Each year mama and babe Fly away just like this. Next spring will come They will come back again Bring in excitement We wait yet again In unabashed joyous rain Can in no way ascertain? Our kingfisher of old Is the same bird Which came last abode? The tree in my backyard Is vacant again A nondescript tree Is looking for a tenant From avian kingdom all over again.
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	My Morning Walk
	by Shelly Jyoti A wake up call I sleep excitedly To wake up in the morning To go for a walk A therapeutic indulgence The green canopy Greens of all shades The riper green Of leathery oak Tough green of banyan tree Emerald green of hibiscus Mosses green of Algae on moist trees Chromatic therapy Acidifies mind and soul Overpowering freshness of air Cool wind touching my cheeks The fragrance of wild flowers The air so cold & pure An abundance of oxygen Fills the lungs Filtering out the toxins Overwhelming indeed! The twitter of birds Melody of loyal singing sweet Squirrels running around Looking for treasure hidden Under the ground The azure blue sky- above The winding path – Beneath the banyan trees I look forward to…. As a pilgrimage I take every day Importantly most To be with my beloved Walking and talking He says his bit I say mine He talks more I listen... The only moments I share With him when we are both to ourselves I look forward to My morning walks.. the fresh air ... Love and oxygen
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	My Day
	Its nine o clock I am at home The kids have gone to school My husband to office I am left alone I I have many things to do I write them on a paper All things to do Run to school Run to shops to buy Paints and fabric loose I pick up my brush I start to paint Thoughts fly random Jot them in my own way Or note them on a paper tray Quickly get ready Time to go To visit my embroiders To check things in a row Summers are round the corner Voiles are bought Designs created and sampled Rushed to stores Rush back home Time for kids to reach back home Have lunch Take a nap Fresh as dew Wake up Energy renewed Space my treadmill For minutes few An evening ‘cuppa’ With kids and some ‘guppa’ Time for dinner Husband to come The cell rings My cooking is done Dinner together’ Lots of fun All narrating their bits Some stories some myths Star news channel The sleep brews Almost getting forty winks Dozing Hiking down the staircase Good night we say And cease the day
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	Magical Brush
	Little did I know When I was a baby Playing around with Colors and brush That one day I will paint The canvas As large as myself The smell of linseed oil Brings back the nostalgia When my mother painted… I asked her one day How did she!! She gave me her brush And never took it back.. And said ‘Go paint’ Any surface – smooth or rough Just like a mother bee! My mama! Since then I had one brush A magical brush which I still have! For years that was kept In a box my mum gave to me I graduated and post graduated English was my subject But All along in my mind I was painting words worth red But my brush lay in its chest Then I got married Came my angelic babies Teaching and playing together Humbled me Growing with them One day I taught them To paint a tree Like my mom did to me I gave them the brush My mom gave to me They have their brush and I have mine They paint their walls red And I paint my canvas white Later they grew up a little I learnt to be a designer Who can create dresses Now I create clothes And design garments Now days I have a pen and ink A thought swims Poem brims I paint one day Write another Designing a garment all the way I love juggling From pen to brush To designing.

	Contemplative
	Alone at night Deep in thoughts.. The nip in the breeze Fluttering of leaves Serenity of coolness Loneliness.. Solitude Peace to myself Just to myself.. A strange staticness Little bewilderness Of times to come Meditating deep in thoughts!
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