~Sachin Tendulkar poetry is my self invented poetry genre.
It aims to bring out the nostalgia of sachin’s era. All poems in this genre are made & themed to honor Sachin Ramesh Tendulkar.
‘Times of the Master‘
I heard the angels, they speak in hush.
‘The master sits in smiling respite’
& million men, outside they rush.
But million things, when times are right.
The knight that rests, his legendary pars. (Powers)
Takes home his glory, through gruesome wars.
What he does make, of beauty & grim.
Of roses, of prairies & starry night’s rim.
His years then pass, abound in love.
Once angel spoke, through a chirping dove –
‘Where is the warrior & his famous sword?
The world needs saving, with glorious reward!’
To question aloud his presence such,
So spoke the master with humble touch–
‘Oh Nightingale! Such mellifluent rhymes.
I have had my wars & glorious times.
I revel now, in my merry founds.
Go tell them angels, am homely bound’
‘My armor rests, in velvet drawers.
My sword hung next, to broomstick ward.
My muddy iron boots, are homing a foli-age. (Foliage)
My helmets now blunt & horses are off-rage’
Now overwhelmed, to his ingenuous reply.
The angel blessed him, in a breathless sigh-
‘Oh! Greatness is what greatness does.
Through simplest things, replete with love.
Till gods come calling, your blissful interlude.
May bless the earthly, fill homeward dues’
‘What born a warrior, a legend prodigious.
Shall remain so true, may whatever you do.
Till the glorious sun, reminds your reminisce.
Till a different task, bestows on you’
‘I shall sit on your trees, your giant shoulders.
Through heaven & earth, transcending beholder.
I will call your names, in mellifluent rhymes.
I will remind you the glory, in every such times’
~Happy Birthday Sachin.
~ A Sachin Tendulkar Poetry, by Vishu Mishra
~Sachin Tendulkar poetry is my self invented poetry genre. It aims to bring out the nostalgia of sachin’s era. All poems in this genre are made & themed to honor Sachin Ramesh Tendulkar.
O’ lord of billion souls,
make silence solve & ruffle up.
I’m hereby read, in most common scrolls.
beseeching your doors, them mighty up.
O’ lord! of twenty-two yards,
I sing with eloquence, a hopeless bard
make heavens hold, where common behold.
allow a breathe,my story be told.
O’ lord! of wooden willow,
break bread to doubts & inspire fellow.
them rhyming chorus,in names of you.
them orchestrate, those prayers for you.
O’ lord! of cricketing dawn,
arose a sun & evils be pawned.
I sit to surmise,them portraits you drew.
with a silent soul, when drives you brew.
O’ lord! a most humble man,
a god or mortal, but immortal span.
am a speckle, calling shine of you.
in a billion clustering dime of you.
O’ lord! a man of eternal-era,
make us pronounce, to your wisdom sera.
let us enlighten, be lesser fools.
unravel to world,your golden rules.
-Poem dedicated and with best wishes for Sachin’s autobiography ‘playing it my way’
Please share this post with all sachin fans. Hopefully it will reach the doors & eyes of batting god one day! 🙂
amen & godspeed! 🙂
– Vishu Mishra
first draft- 06-11-2014 (~ 5-6 pm)
Master Sometimes shall wind such blow, when memories kindle within then flow old pages flutter & stow - when the great one orchestrates, in arena heaven befalls, A midget rather not in spirits, like a master of them all. like a leader of all souls. A man of great will & willow. & fewer his words, them better be. but sings along the whole world. bow down to knees some broke. He so humble, rather not his competence. like a master of ground green he dictates, a leader, commanding their very souls. He the truth, looming afore curtains, A man ,standing common yet grand. eloquent herald of sports, now we understand. - A soft-spoken man from India of honesty, of conduct, & genius is certain. looming afore golden haze,giant worldly curtains. As generous rather not to opponents. Like a tiger ,fierce & intent. & more the silence better be. With a heavy wood he commands them. like a leader of all souls. when lesser world would remember, wear back to yards he strolled. to simulate the bliss then befalled. A midget,rather not who saw him. Like a giant among us all. Like a saint among all souls. like a " master "