Home of my younger days
 Whenever the harsh winds
Of the city of Colombo brush against my face
I remember the cool breeze of my village home
Which soothes away the worries in my soul
When I meet the hostile glances
And the worried faces of the people
The sweet smiles and the kind greetings
Of the familiar people of my village
Passes through my mind
When I see the lonely moon
Here in this hot city of madness
I remember the lovely view of moon back at home
That makes a poet dance with joy
That decorates the sky next to all the trees
And the twinkling stars to keep company
And I remember a poet sitting under a mango tree
Basking in the moonlight, enjoying the solitary beauty
With a heart that feels grateful towards a village
That brought so much joy.
Nisansala Dharmasena
Grandma's death
When I entered the living room,
Through the rear door,
She was alive,
And heard her almost mumble, 'Kollo...'
Mistaken me for my father, her son.
I slipped in,
Without saying so much as a word,
For I was used,
To taking her grumbles for granted.
Perhaps I was insensitive,
To the plain fact that her voice,
Was more markedly feeble than ever.
When I walked past her bed again,
She lay facing towards the wall,
Next to the bed,
Her right hand, almost limp,
Stretched outwards to her right,
Rested on the bed.
I convinced myself
She was breathing yet;
It was when Aunt Rani, our benign neighbour,
Pronounced her dead,
That I began to doubt myself.
Perhaps, this was the way to die:
No final words, no last will,
No lachrymose leave-taking;
Now she was alive,
Now dead.
Jayashantha Jayawardhana
Last run...
 My dear friend,
I'm sorry to see
Innocent you, plodding along swimming along.
You, the old and young, the able and not
living in a dusty rusty land
a land wet with red and terror
ran for life...
each with a burden; physical and mental.
Just one last run hearing to a great king,
A king who can be trusted
Assure you a greener pasture.
I feel you, sure you do too
because, both are same.
Cheer up! You are not alone.
Esala Erangi Malawithanthri
To the international community
Not that we were grossly adamant,
But we knew well the facts relevant.
You had been given the wrong picture;
We were not able to make it clear!
However, you'll know that we have been right;
Things will soon come to everyone's light.
We are one and we continue to be so;
You'll soon see the Paradise on the go!
Bandara Samarakoon
The best teacher
 Now that you're leaving
I can tell you how we feel;
My heartfelt admiration
Is deeply felt and real.
I'll miss your fine example;
I'll miss the things you gave;
My pleasant memories of you
I'll recall and carefully save.
Thank you, Sir Nadika
For acting like a friend,
And taking time to show me,
Lessons hard to comprehend.
Sir, I wish for your future
The best of all your days;
May you discover sweet fulfilment
In new and rewarding ways.
Pasandee Wickramasinghe
THE CARD - Specially for you
 The beautiful bouquet of flowers
Shining with bright colours
The word Thank You,
A card came from my daughter.
I am a lucky mother
Have a lovely daughter
To show her gratitude
Especially on Mothers' Day.
It is not only on today
Your thoughts are forever.
But you are an unlucky mother
Being a mother of a son
With Down's syndrome
Might you receive a card
The word thank you.
To show his gratitude
For a life time of suffering.
How destiny treats us
Wipe your tears my love
This is LIFE
No equality, though our
Eyes shining with salt dew
For giving birth to human being
Now dry your tears my love
You know mothers love.
My blessings are always with you.
Ramya Wijayasinghe.
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