MyPoetry

A hawk flying about in the sky one day decided that he would like to marry a hen whom he often saw on earth. He flew down and searched until he found her, and then asked her to become his wife. She at once gave her consent on the condition that he would wait until she could grow wings like his, so that she might also fly high. The hawk agreed to this and flew away, after giving her a ring as an engagement present and telling her to take good care of it. The hen was very proud of the ring and placed it around her neck. The next day, however, she met the cock who looked at her in astonishment and said: “Where did you get that ring ? Do you not know that you promised to be my wife ? You must not wear the ring of anyone else. Throw it away.” And the hen threw away the beautiful ring. Not long after this the hawk came down bringing beautiful feathers to dress the hen. When she saw him coming she was frightened and ran to hide behind the door, but the hawk called ...

“The Perfect Partnership”   CAST OF CHARACTERS STEPHEN:                  A kind and polite young man with good intentions.   CLARA : A scatterbrained young woman with an imaginative and impulsive ideas.   PENELOPE : Stephen’s high maintenance, snobbish girlfriend.   OPERATOR : Offstage. ! !   PUPPY : Though the play centres around a puppy, the animal is inanimate throughout the                     performance and a stuffed animal or prop may be used. ! SCENE ! A sidewalk near a park.  ! TIME ! Present day, on a sunny afternoon in summer At rise. A sunny day on a sidewalk near a park. A bench is center stage with foliage   in the background. Upstage right there is a small table with a telephone on it,    representing PENELOPE’S house. Ther...

The Apricot Tree  M.S. Mahadevan I have lived in the camp for close to a year now. When I remember my old home, somehow I love it more than I ever did. It was spring when we left. And the barren, grey mountains were slowly turning green. The apricot tree which my grandfather had planted as a young man was heavy with ripening fruit. Abba and Usman were making last minute arrangements before taking our flock to the high pastures. I begged to go along with them. "Not this year," Abba had said firmly. In a kinder voice he had added, "Maybe next summer." Usman was fifteen. I was eleven. It seemed like I would have to wait forever to be as old as him. Meanwhile, there was school to attend, and Ammi and Habiba to look after. "They are your responsibility," Abba had said proudly. Usman, securing bags of barley flour, salt and dried meat, put them onto a mule's back, had given me a sympathetic smile. I envied him the days of adventure and freedom that la...

Birds Of Different Feathers Tithi Tavora It was summer and the mango tree was heavy with plump, ripe mangoes. The parrots were happy. They cackled noisily as they pecked the delicious fruit. Mrs. Popatlal and Mrs. Totaben were chatting over a particularly sweet one when Mithu, Mrs. Totaben's son said, "Mummy, we have a new neighbour." "This place is indeed getting too crowded," grumbled Mrs. Totaben. "Very soon there will be more parrots than mangoes." "The new neighbour is not a parrot," said Mithu. "Must be a crow then," retorted his mother. "What is the difference? They eat mangoes too." "It is not a crow either," said Mithu. "It is a funny, brown bird. It stays there," he said pointing to a small hollow close to the trunk. "Inside the tree? What kind of a bird stays inside a tree?" asked Mrs. Totaben. "You must be mistaken, Mithu," said Mrs. Popatlal. Mithu was not mistaken. ...

Nokoy -arlyn❤️ Lagarde My aquintance and friend Even her height is not that kind For me she's beautiful and one of a kind! When i am staring at you, Your chubbyness bump me though You're still beautiful Especially when you smile in full. Nokoy, please be my best friend I'm not that rude but filled with attitude. So that when we go together Together we will scheme and Together we will dream.

The song I sing -Arlyn❤️Lagarde Lovely melody hurls in my ears Like a gazelle spinning gears. The sound is soft and tender That flows through from my hairs. Earth sing in its notes Considering not its thought, Making no sense to anyone Making no sense to my only one. The rhythm I use to sing, Is something that beats from within. Causing Him to give a smile, To someone like me who is vile. All the days this song I’ll sing, Only for you and undertaking Making me merry from morning to sunset even without using any gadget.