By: C.P. Singh, Literary Editor-ICN Group
Four symmetric walls, beneath a roof-hood
With less or more windows and doors.
Made up of bricks, cement, clay or wood,
Leaves, grass or even huts on bamboos four.
A construction of any sort of design or finding,
Made costly, middle, cheap in group or alone.
May be called a building of it’s own binding,
“As it is” can not be called a home on it’s own.
Any construction with affection as blood affix,
Erected on the plinth of brother- hood as bone.
With use of love as mortar amongst all bricks,
It sustains, persists & deals any calamity or cyclone.
A house considered, made and unlived,
Is having roof over walls with pigeon-holes.
Piled with all the dirts webs of the spiders,
Sounds do arise as if from the ghost –poles.
A house, well lived- in the affection and love,
When occupied by the owns as harmonized hub.
It is a heaven on the earth it self overflowing -love,
Affectionately we call it “ A HOME” adore -daub.
