Returning from work late at night,
The streets were dark without any light.
To this it was slowly raining,
Going home and cooking was paining.
I reached home to see power cut,
I dashed with the table and was hurt.
Finally after settling down by the window with a sandwich,
Looking at the view I thought if I was on the beach.
The raindrops and soft breeze would have touched my feet and face,
And I would have surrendered myself to this solace.
Hot cooked sea food would have served my platter,
Mouth watering chocolate mousse following it later.
The most desirable moment to have a sound sleep,
In a small cot besides the beach which is so deep.
Suddenly my mobile rang,
And I woke from my dream with a bang.
It had a message which said tomorrow meeting sharp at eight,
I told to myself forget the beach this is my life and I have to fight.
Next day after the meeting it was announced, an office picnic at beach this weekend;
I told to myself this is my life and it will listen to me till its end.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem