Sunder Vasudeva Rao


Princess And The Pea. - Poem by Sunder Vasudeva Rao

It hurts, said the Princess of true virtue, seven spongy mattresses of no use.
A dreadful day it was, when she came unannounced to his door.
Thunders shattering the darkened skies, lightning laying bare the bruises.
Drenched in rain, shivering in cold, asked she for shelter; I am a Princess.
Doors opened, screeching with doubts; what’s her true identity?

Years of life were lost in vain looking for the Princess of true virtue.
Why not try this one, who’s come un -soliciting to my doors.
Oh mother, wait not anymore; test her with your wily mattresses.
Mattresses you made with learning’s from successful forefathers.
Heavy were her steps, skeptical her gait as she left to test another.

Mattresses, seven in number, made from softest material ever known.
Charisma, the name of tender birds whose feathers were used
Softest cotton came from lands of Oratory, Rhetoric and Philanthropy
Sponge specially bought, from the lands of self-righteous and religious.
Muslin woven by witty and bright brought to our land by smart businessmen.

Under all those mattresses, did she place, the smallest pea on Earth.
An ordinary pea, for all you know, nothing to distinguish, nothing to notice.
Naked greed, they called the plant and selfish was probably the name
of the soil on which this pea was grown.
Oh! What great joy,
this puny pea under seven mattresses, did hurt the Princess of true virtue


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Poem Submitted: Tuesday, June 7, 2011



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