What an irksome dress this day had decided to wear,
Made of hateful polyester, stained with stale oil, and
Crammed with those most important issues dangling
Like a broken telephone line, strangling the soul
and squirming around it like malevolence screeching
songs of searing serpentine savage slinking chaos
then as I stepped out into the garden, time trembled
with tenderness and a startling burnishing of blue!
The Raat Ki Rani (the White Queen) which had been
Infested with powdery white pests a month ago.
Now stood with all its leaves washed clean of the bugs
With just 20 ml from that ancient, cracked bottle of
Neem oil mixed with a spoonful of detergent, in a
Bucket of water, which lasted for around ten washes!
Three years too old, way past its use before date, neem had
Worked so well that magic itself was jealous and glared
As the very small white flowers that give out their
Awesome scent every night, under twilight had arrived!
Blue burgeoned into the day which tore off the polyester
And went for the cotton caress of limpid, lustrous sapphire
Poem and text: daksha