3 little pigs

I wrote 3 short verses/lyrics/crap/poems/whatever.
As my ever suffering audience, put up with it...

When I got no mails today from the group

All dead leaves in a pond, pushed ‘gainst another
By random ripples of destiny’s hands
Never getting together by own volition
Only through collision by chance

When some one needs a code she cannot crack…
When some one needs a level she cannot hack…
When some one needs a mail update he cannot otherwise see…
Is that the only time that they mail me?

When after a brief spurt the mails died down

Relentless summer sun upon the earth’s brow
Constant hammering turns the mental tissue to mush
And Lo! Upon the western skies, clouds flying low
Shed a few drops, soaking the parched land to slush

Kicking up noisy puddles in fatal glee,
Children lost in a wilderness of pain.
Am I seeing them or am I seeing me,
In vague visions, watered by the rain

Then the promise betrayed
As quickly as it was made
The sun came out, with its chariot in tow.
Then went on negating everything undone till now

The rain had died and it was summer again
Parched throats and empty eyes scanned the skies in vain
First there were some and now only too few
So the thirsty poet penned his petition anew.

When there were reports of a generously rounded female admirer of these words

And swaying in regal majesty,
The tusker approached the beautiful behemoth.
Trumpeting, deep and sonorous, putting his best foot forward.
The tusker almost passes by
But gives her the eye
And stops to give her a line
“How you doin’?”

Now there I have blogged...Now you do your part. Comment. Blog in return...Boquets...Brickbats...Bring it right on!