All at a glance: pepsi, sprite, Charminar & Apple

Jingles!

I am brass coloured born from shine's metal,
I am mass cornered grown from shrine's temple.

I sway with the touch of cooly breezes warmth,
Yet I fray with the touch of holy breezes warmth.

With priest's divine chants aura and
With feast's sanguine grants flora thine merry leaped to peak.

Hung from red chain in a sloppy way from cow's neck,
Rung from dread pain in a ropy way from sow's heck.

Passing through the woods I alarm my mate with jingling notes,
Crossing through the woods I disarm my mates with tingling dotes.

Grown at solitary bliss with boundless glory,
Finally frown at monetary miss with mindless fury.

A White Butterfly Clip

Soaring locks drooling past my neck,
Roaring locks ruling past my peck,
was jailed by a gritty clip in might.

In the bazaars of shimmering bangles,
In the bazaars of glittering clips,
there hailed an innocent clip in white.

Like a butterfly's graceful plight in dawn,
Like a dragon fly's raceful flight in lawn,
it lured its fanciful peers in envy.

A glance at the clip, thine lock's thirstiness bred.
A prance at the slip, thine lock's keeness spread.

Thine's penny loss in mass,
Thine's runny toss in crass,
mourned my locks in mulling over the clip.

Bravo! Gusts of mercy kidnapped the clip and dungeoned it in the knight's caressing locks.

Diya Delights out of recycled stuff

Diwali known for its stupendous festivity of illumination of lights, lamps and colourful embellished diyas, is considered one of the most pompous celebration by Indians.Being a responsible citizen, its necessary for us to use the basic concepts like reduce, reuse and recycle themes in creating a colourful diyas at home itself where by we can eliminate the unnecessary stuff and can unearth the creative corner of yours.

Here is a diya made out of plastic cup, glass bottle, fabric paints, kundans and sparkle glue to beautify the the look.

A Stolen Pocket

Born on a trouser made of velvet cloth,
Worn on a precussor made of dulcet loathe.


Petty coins jumped into my lap for refuge,
Nutty comb bumped into my wrap for refuge.


Rinsed with soap for weekly bloom,
Fenced with rope for meekly doom.


I am sported on  my sire and strolled in market,
I am courted on tire and drooled in racket.


Robber in linen peeked my pocket continually,
Pick pocketer in chagrin seeked my pocket perpetually.


Unknown of miser sire, robber's tendered touch vouched me for breath,
Inborn of my wiser dire, pick pocketer's rendered clutch crouched me for wreath.


Folly bent robber ended with a velvet pocket fabric,
Holy dent pick pocketer ended with a brunet pocket's tragic.

A White Painted Crow

I fly neither to a town nor to a city,
I cry neither to a frown or for pity.

Hunting for bits of food stuff,
Punting for pits of brood snuff made innocuous fantasy.

Quenching my thirst in nearby drain,
Drenching my wrist in hereby rain made joyous ecstasy.

Sturdy chap's arty flair bedazzled the wall in glee,
Wordy chap's hearty fair dazzled the pals in flee.

With strokes of White paint on Walls and
Blokes of light taint on Walls striked me to coat my black skin.

With drops of paint falling on floor and
With dollops of paint crawling on my skin, thine bade good bye to old look.

Thine White new look amused my mellow souls,
Thine White new look mused my fellow pals.

My peers awful looks and children's brimful peeks drenched me with vanity,
Alas! The paint got effaced with splash of water thrown by a lad in play.

Feather's Blush

With a long drawn violent breeze at ease,
And a song brawn silent freeze at lease,
There flew a vibrant feather on a gal.

With a splash driven rain blend mist,
And a brash craven lane bend twist,
There grew a jubilant weather on a call.

Mild blush looks of a gal,
Gild hush Brooks of hall,stunned the feather in awe.

Bratty wind's staunch fury,
Patty mind's lunch hurry,came like a tiger's roar.

Gales of terror and pales of thrusts blemished the hall in gaiety.
Tales of horror and whales of mistrusts cherished the quill in sanctity.

Having fallen on lap of damsel's caressed cheek the feather blushed like a knight's maiden kiss at bliss.

Rusted Bell!

       I came to temple with a gentle jingle,
       I claim to mumble with a rental mingle.
        
       I dance with breeze at touch of disciple,
       I glance with freeze at crouch of principle.

       I fly in pride during embellished seasons,
       I cry in stride during famished reasons.
        
       Time flew and my luster effaced,
       sublime grew and my stature disgraced.
        
       Dust and rust accompanied me these evergreen days,
       Mirth and dearth conjured me this evergreen strays.

       Gradually the crust of rust on brim of bell toppled on floor like the tears in fear.

                   

A Salt Biscuit's sleep

 I am dozed for a quarter year in the jar,

 I am frozed for a barter pear in the bar.

I gazed at toddlers, who thronged,

I am amazed at fodders that longed.

I traced the mob that strolled at my shop,

I am braced with sob that enrolled me to hop.

I graced with cheers at the hustling courteous air,

I embraced with tears at the bustling joyous affair.

Thy salt stricken form engraved for enclosure,

and thy halt driven dorm craved for disclosure.

I am grabbed from a petty shop’s glass jar,

and barbed like a nutty bishop’s mass war.

       

Thy lifeless aura in glassy vessel,

Thy guileless aura in crassly meddle,

made me active on getting robbed.