Bored Housewife Poem by Saroj Padhi

As you dye your hair
at the backyard,
the Winter Sun peeks in
with eyes of allure
unconsciously dashing against
the thorny surrounding wall
grown old, insecure
against the wind of your youth
that runs into desires demure,
roses in my garden
rouge your cheeks
with their magical color,
bees hum around in wonder
about the art of your Creator
as your kids play
'Round Round Whirls'
and sparrows on the mirror
mutter about your secret love,
its sorrowing glimmer;

your thirty-five Springs
have gone in vain
breeding, cooking, sewing,
washing, drying
without experiencing
a single orgasm -
a life of empty flutter!

A bored wife and mother
you go on weaving dreams
into the dark dyed braid
struggling to live on the edge,
a wanderer
in thoughts' narrow lane
a recluse,
without warmth or luster!