Sonnet

Mahatma Gandhi

'Tis half-past four, the afternoon grows still,
As Abha brings his would be final meal.
The goat's milk waits, with oranges to fill,  
And bowls of greens that aid most ills to heal.
Raw and cooked vegetables, with ginger's zest,
And sour lemons strained with aloe juice,
He sits on the floor, talking to his guest,
And eats his food while digesting the news.
He speaks with Patel of a fractured land,
Where Nehru’s shadow breeds a deep unease,
A heavy burden placed into his hand,
To bring the restless government to peace.
   Young Abha waits, yet dares not break their speech,
   Though punctuality lies in her reach.


2026.05.19