The Blessings

I have been given a special task

A task that would last

Last in its impression on my mind

Help me unwind the stupid thoughts

That my mind churns without a hold

Preparing a large bubble that waits to explode

And make me a little crybaby

That is hard to console.

So here is my new task

From the lady who loves watermelons

And basks from them her ultimate pleasure

The task at hand is to count my blessings

And pen them down, addressing.

So there you go watermelon lady

Besides my wonderful parents and brother

You get the spot for pestering me, for this one

But being my blessing

The count is fairly good

Coz under the hood is my caring sister

And my friends who understood

Understood my cribbing session

And still continue to put

There is more to my blessings

The words that I have been dressing

Into a poetic romantic attire

Where even New Hampshire could become a city embossed.

These words I have just uncovered

For humanity’s good

As they help me unwind

And lighter the wrath of my cribbing

That otherwise could be anything but enduring.

My blessings include

My wandering soul

That dreams to roam

In Rome, Paris

And some other exotic zones

And even if it could swan to those spaces

It could well imagine and draw wonderful traces

Well, when I count my blessing

I can never forget addressing

The romance I had

That made me mad and a mad romantic that I am

The love bloomed like a wild berry

And made me blossom and merry

Never leaving me like an empty hole.

As I count my blessings

I realize that I have been stressing for nothing

As all that I need is resting around me

Surrounding me

Except my blossomed love that has now withered.