By – Dr. Megha Bharati ‘Meghall’
A horse unemployed-
Grazed the green meadows,
With a few tulips in it.
Ah! being on your own is simply wonderful !
It’s blue it’s pink it’s white it’s red.
Just colourful !
With not only a single shade to live for,
Not the only one colour to die for.
When at Mayfield-
the horse would graze the pastures,
meant just for the domesticated;
With luscious grass ;
With ambrosial greenery .
All was good.
But for the domesticated.
He pulled the rope once,
And pulled it harder the other day,
Pulled it again,
And broke the rope one day.
Let his feet take him to where they wanted
Just ran and ran
Very well but knew;
He was moving
Not away from Mayfield
closer to the open pastures-
Where light was not obstructed by tin sheds.
And the mud not disturbed by the wooden planks.
Where the sweet breeze when blew didn’t stay for long.
Where the wind when blew strong,
did let him sway.
Where he had to be quick to inhale the fragrant breezes.
Where he had to struggle to stand the windy storms.
Yes, the open pastures-
Where it was not domesticated ..