Obituary to M.Subbalakshmi, singer
By nature or culture,
Man has grown polygamous
And woman, mono-yandrous.
You had been like a dove fluttering
Towards the nest;
You had been like a hen moving about
the yard.
You had soared sky high, legs tucked
In husband’s hold.
Like an angel you walked;
Like a breeze you moved.
You made gods of music;
You made music of gods.
You reared, like a mother, husband’s
children.
You cared, like father, the people of
destitute.
You quit the floor you’d sprung from;
You stuck to the roof you’d clung to.
The whole roof dripped at your exit;
The entire floor wasn’t wet for your exit.
O, you M.S., who were home bound!
O, singing queen, who were in the borrowed custom.
12.12.2004
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Added by Poetry Lover
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