nimal dunuhinga

(19, April,1951 / kalubovila East, Sri Lanka)

The bereft Master's faithful feet

We never forget the bygone barefooted happy journeys on the fine grass.
As same as the painful marathons along the gravel roads.
Now it's very hard to bear up the terrible winter breeze peeps through your holey boots
And the darned woolen socks won't resists.
Anyway we realize the situation well than the others
And never betray you Boss!

*If there is a Thunderstorm blows from the Mediterranean Sea and an incessant Peace rain falls into the fierce fighting Gaza?

Submitted: Thursday, January 15, 2009

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  • Alison Cassidy (1/16/2009 1:48:00 AM)

    Oh would that your thunderstorm would blow away the war and your rain of peace would pour down on the people of Gaza and allow them to return to their houses and keep their children warm. Your barefoot metaphor is very poignant. As usual, your poem delves deep. Love, Allie ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ (Report) Reply

  • Sandra Fowler (1/15/2009 9:03:00 PM)

    Winter can sometimes be a metaphor for hardship.But the brave
    poet soldiers on. Excellent write, Nimal.

    Warmest regards,

    Sandra (Report) Reply

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