It is my nest with three baby flies
With the noise of overwhelming love and glee
Their mother bird will fly all along the day
to fetch their prey
Though there is a chase behind the money
Up to that morning they were gay
The stormy day dawned with her arrival
She arrived as a guest and started her play.
The sheen of my nest started to change
And slowly it lost it’s laughs and happy notes
Though she was sixty lost her sense and
started her play
Every second of that moved as an year
and every sound from my home turned as curse
She is my mother and grandma to my kids
Attacked us with the cruel words and tears
She came as a breeze and left
As a storm from my nest
Sorry my Dad!
He will have to look after you from her.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
a storm in my nest........... let the storm goes wait for time and tide it will heal all of us on earth...................