Sermon & Scram Poem by Padmanabhan Ananth

She lived in a lone cottage near my home
Just fifteen, 'darling' to many boys in town
But that was only in their wild imagination
I, still at high school, one among them!

My true love, I must soon well express,
'Script it on a paper, ' agreed two friends
So we sat together to pen it prim-n-proper
My first ever love letter so done with care

They promised beside me they'd stand
When the letter I would pass to her hand
I was very proud at each, such thick pal
Both from locality, and of same school

Her house at the end of a long cul-de-sac
We rang the electric bell fixed to the fence
That wait for her to come was the longest
Finally she did, was surprised at our sight

'My brother's pals these fidgety boys
What business for? ' wondering perhaps
The lump in my throat was growing large
Parching my throat, just refusing to leave

She came sprinting down near the gate
Lo behold, my pals had taken to their feet!
Quizzed further at this change in scene
But mature far beyond her age was she

Took the letter from my trembling hand
Read carefully, looked up at me, she smiled
And said: 'friend too young we are both,
Let's keep our eyes on our lessons this moment.'

I was never prepared for this little sermon
But the way she handled, I can't complain
Sheepishly I turned to the path of return
And to find those brats at them to scream

Today in my life, so many decades later
Of that summer dusk, I vividly remember
To a teenage discourse I stood listening
Those unholy bums at their feet sprinting!