worry of hearth

blushing out a narrow hole
yellow, red and black a whole,

burning twigs and leaves when dry
giving out a complete meal with a fry

smokes, ashes and a burning smell
sweats, cries of the smoking gale

cooking pan of thousands and more
beating hunger with taste and cure

looking smiles of near and dear
with a country of joy and cheers

heaps may count as two three and four
but the holes never exceed two or more

experts now decide a ban on it
as air gets polluted due to smoke of it

vehicles, factories may top the list
but the little pan is on the twist


a special thanks to my dear friend asutosh moharana.

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