Allsorts

Spring is like a mysterious, magical magician,
waking up the world with bursts
of Technicolor dreams and life.
Flowers open their delicate petals
like they’re stretching after a long, deep sleep,
and the trees breathe out fresh, dewy, new leaves,
whispering secrets to the wind.
The sun beams down gracefully
warming everything in sight
with a kiss of happiness,
while the breeze dances through the air,
tickling everything it touches.
Birds sing melodies
that bounce happily from branch to branch,
as if spring itself is singing a joyful song.
It’s a time when nature seems to be alive,
playful, and eager to start a brand new adventure. ​

Snow lies covering the grass
Frost illuminates the bushes all around
Icicles cling like crystals falling down
Christmas warmth gathers all around

Wet, rainy, snowy, up in the sky
Saying hi to birds who are flying by
So harsh, with lots of rain
Sometimes even a hurricane
Cloud, cloud, how I love you so
Cloud, cloud, how I love you so
Love you so, love you so
Cloud cloud up in the sky
Saying hi to birds who are flying by
Oh I love you so
Cloud cloud I love you so
Clouds clouds

Winter presses its thumb upon the world,
Sealing the earth in silver silence.
The year exhales, frayed at the edges,
And Christmas enters as a patient flame.

Homes become sanctuaries of light,
Windows speaking in amber hush.
Time loosens its grip around the table,
Hours dissolving into remembrance.

We unwrap more than ribbon and paper—
Old mercies, fragile hopes, relearned grace.
Christmas is not a day we possess,
But a threshold we finally cross.

He takes me out to fun places
He works so hard
He loves building stuff
He buys me things too
when he takes me out on weekends
We call it Father-daughter Day
I love him immensely
He truly is the best.

She loves cooking
And she cooks with love
She’s really pretty
She helps me find my stuff
She cleans the house
I help her sometimes
So does my dad and my sister
I somehow like washing the dishes
I find it weirdly fun
I love her a lot
And she is, my beautiful mom!

The bushes rustling,
Leaves falling,
And trees.
Birds in their nests,
Some birds going into migration.
Bears going into hibernation.
All creatures rest.
Snakes hissing.
And that, is life through the woods!

Dear Swami, you are 17 days old,
But you are not quiet as my mother had fortold.
When you wail, when you cry,
The roof touches the sky.

When you drink milk with a slurp,
Then let gas out with a burp.
A Toothless Devil looking so cute,
And pampered as a guest in a 5 star suite.

You are as adorable as a rabbit,
When you poop, Mom says dammit.
With my friends I show you off and boast,
We chuckle, laugh and take a toast.

(to my loving sister)

I can hear the rustling leaves floating in the whistling wind.
I can see the crisp white snow crunching under my footsteps.
I can smell the freezing air rushing quickly up my nose.
I can taste thick, sweet hot chocolate sliding smoothly down my throat.

Banana socks,
There are no more in stock,
The name gave me a shock,
So I bumped into a rock.

Ketchup shoes,
I have no time to lose,
This thing gave me a bruise,
I hate my ketchup shoes.

Hot dog sun-hat,
Everybody likes that,
It looks good on my cat,
It takes it off on the mat.

Cheetos headband,
It fell on the sand,
It is very grand,
You can’t buy it
Do you understand?