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by: dwitikrishna panigrahi
| Away from family | | and away from home? | | Never take it is easy
even if it is Rome.
A menial hovel
or an imperial palace,
home is always a home,
with halcyon surroundings
and ultimate solace.
Nostalgic you may call it,
But imagine,
if you can forget it.
Would the continental
cuisine you get,
from a restaurant
at a profuse rate,
tastes better than the homemade regimen,
served among your
family junket?
The bedizened girl
that serves you wine
At a bar in her
diurnal routine,
May have had a
callow and buxom smile,
But can she match
in your delirium even
the cryptic beauty
of your sober queen?
Nothing more is
there in a home
except your kins'
unfeigned affection,
rare elsewhere
in this apocryphal world.
Sans it all is
tedious and tiresome.
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