Three Bangles

The Jingle and tinkle is lying on, 
Three little bangles,
Rambling all the way,
Emotion adds to day’s paddock.

The season went out, comes in,
It stands out more with time,
This day, it lay concrete so on,
Guiding the minds to the right.

May be on all sides it is small,
It never moved back,
Even in the dark shade,
Or in the deep summer.

“He” may call for to tap back,
Let vie be in a loop until,
The upshot is festive around,
Same round, and it is point one stone.

[dedicated to my ever loving friend, JT!!!! The poem is about the bangles in her hand. She is one more to her sixty. Deeply glad to work with a person like her, who always wear a moving smile in her face. She adds more color everyday to our relationship. Feels so Glad and happy to dedicate my humble gift in this early Thanks Giving season]

Color

Who can connote a reason,
How does a color vary?
The views gathered poles apart,
Some is evidence for, 
And more unseen.

When the shift is meant for,
Dark to the light term,
People are more ardent,
The double joy,
The detriment what so many!

Time and again they were taught,
To take, as they like,
Easier said than done,
Be safe and sound,
Conceived notions so hard!

The change is artless,
The color may grow fainter,
The cloth in tatters,
You may well left out,
With a pin of “gobbledygook”