The Mood Lifter
One pale Sunday, She sits in her room The feeling that looms Is an uncanny gloom. She cannot quite say Why it is this way, As nothing lifts her mood On this dull day. It could be her painting, With colours spread wrong She whiles away her time, By writing a sad song. Sometimes she lazes On the brown cosy sofa, Musing about holidays, At places, afar. Browsing through websites, She picks a red dress But the money in her purse, Seems a bit less. Giving it a miss, She pours in some wine The movie she’s watching, Is called ‘Goopy Gyne Bagha Byne’. An aroma from the kitchen Suddenly fills her room It stimulates her senses And punctures through the gloom. She gets up and runs, To see what’s in store But all she can see, is steam, Gushing through the door. Soon the cloud clears And on a plate, she sees A sizzling fried fish, Simmered with spices it is! Slices of lemon and onions Make the garnish With some cor...