 I won't lose
On my track of life
I will run.
And leap will I
At each hurdle stop,
I know I'll fall,
I'm bound to that.
I will rise,
No doubt about that!
The ground is hard,
And rising would be too
But if I don't
I've got a lot to lose.
Can't afford that,
I will not lose
Like dust on the track
I will rise and not lose.
My run is long
But stop, I wont!
Until victory is mine
And I won't lose.
Vishmi Wijeratne
Spring
 Amber rose sun rises beyond the misty blue mountains
Early morning dew drops moisten manicured gardens
Black birds sweetly twitter melodious tunes of morning
Colourful butterflies freely float over newly budding trees
Golden daylight eventually falls through misty curtains
Herds of cows ascend to green pastures in high mountains
Streams of glacier water gently flow into turquoise lakes
Flocks of swans gracefully swim near moss covered banks
Humming honey bees swiftly fly around flower decked meadow
Crocuses of spring beautifully bloom in white, yellow and purple
Violet coloured Hyacinths spread intensive fragrances in the air
Red winged ladybirds quietly crawl up into blossoming flowers
Timid long eared hares quickly hop into a dark wild wood
Dappled mushrooms grow rapidly under the shades of trees
Lemony scented Magnolia petals flutter as fresh breezes blow
Springtime Daffodils dangle decorating the bloomy gardens
- Hemakumar Nanayakkara
Never try to cheat others
 Once a very tall crane
Landed like an aeroplane
Onto a large lotus lake
And stayed there without a shake
His only longing wish
Was to catch dainty fish
So he stood like a saint
Or a picture in a paint
His aim was to fill his belly
With the fish tasting sweet jelly
He was trying only to catch
Without thinking he was watched
A crocodile that was passing by
Saw our treacherous tall guy
Slowly going round and round
Caught him easily without a sound
Cunningness in the long run
Is like a reverse shot from a gun
My dear sisters and brothers
Never try to cheat others
Davidson Goonathileke
Complaint
 "WELCOME" the greeting,
Printed nicely.
Enters the lady, old with a stick.
House full, commotion etc.
Pooh.....
Waits half a clock;
Ah! You hag, what brought you here?
Oh! POLITENESS!
Sir, some boys pelt trees for fruit...
Tiles broken, roof's leaking...
So? Chase them!
I'm old and...
But can crawl here huh!
Oh! OBEDIENCE!
Sir, just to lodge an entry.
Have you got change?
Yes some bucks, here;
Wow! LOYALTY!
Hm, can you show the boys?
I think I can.
Yes, it's INTELLIGENCE!
Then find them and tie them up;
Leave at once you hag...
Oops! Is this the COURTESY?
Please Sir, I'm a helpless lonely pensioner...
We'll see what we can do. Have lot of work.
Surely this must be EFFICIENCY.
Esala Erangi Malawithanthri
The Pest
 We heartily loathed,
The fallow subject of agriculture,
The stocky, bull dog-faced master,
The murky, smelly class-room,
And avoided them,
As much as possible.
As we entered,
The musty, cluttered class-room,
And seated ourselves on the shaky benches,
At the unpolished dusty desks,
Treacherous Time lagged behind us,
And stood outside.
The womb of boredom!
The wise mice, residing in the closets,
In the store-room,
Shared our reasonable dislike,
And disturbed our dogmatic master,
With their ratty tricks.
The practical rats, however, preferred,
Spilt grain in the closets,
To our silent gratitude.
At the end of his tether,
Our master asked us once,
To tidy up the store-room,
And get rid of the pest.
In spite of ourselves,
We armed ourselves with cudgels,
And set ourselves to the task.
I, a gutless hunter, only stood witness,
To half a dozen mousicides.
Pleased with the massacre of mice,
Our master beamed and praised us lavishly.
But, the wrath of Great God Ghana, we knew, was on us.
Our master wanted us to bury the carcasses.
Perhaps he forgot, in his cruel euphoria,
That, with a single carcass,
One could possibly become a billionaire.
Jayashantha Jayawardhana |
