Seema Aarella Poems
Comments about Seema Aarella
They lie there, on the chipped slab
Where no one sniffs its smell
Its beauty does not rouse a talk
Since the dead can't see and tell
Thronging the shrine of sacred stone
Each element in service of him
Endorsed with holiness unknown
They gleam with a hallowed vim
Laid with care, designed to excite
Gracing the boudoir of newly wed
Squashed, squeezed through the night
While a life begins, they are dead.
Finding Of A Sort
Who am I?
A fine countenance masking
deadly inner defiance.
Plenty of secrets are hidden in me,
I am really not, what I endorse to be.
Who is my Friend?
An aid lending money,