The Prodigal Son !

Got a share of his father's estate, younger son moved,
To a distant country only to squander his own wealth;
In wild living,famine came and it's ugly head showed,
He exhausted everything also lost senses and health.

To a job of feeding the pigs,he himself got hired,
None gave him anything to eat,for the pods he longed,
He thought of his father's hired men,he felt degraded,
" I will set out and go back to my father " he wished.

" Father I have sinned against you and heaven ,
Make me like one of your hired men,for ever,
I am no longer worthy to be called your own son ",
Proclaiming so got up and went to his own father.

He was still a long way off,him his father found,
Filled with compassion for him he ran to his son,
Oh! he showered kisses,threw his arms all around,
He ordered his servants in tumult hitherto unknown.

To bring the best robe to put on him and a ring,
Of gold to his finger and sandals to his feet,
Joy burst amid pomp,sound,music and dancing,
He ordered to kill a fattened calf for the feast.

His older son in anger asked for jusice to thrive,
His father pleaded, all he has only to him bound,
For this son of mine was dead and now he is alive,
He said in tears ,he was lost and now he is found.

Yesupatham Savarimuthu.

An Era Of Drawing Oh ! Pari !

Retirement an unforgettable wedding garment,
Drawing Master,yet acted like Headmaster,
Thirty years without tears ends in retirement,
Political game,his fame,a gem an alabaster.

In Polur made record,none can break the accord,
Hands he shook with any Headmaster in good book,
My student, colleague prudent of family good guard,
Staff secretary,a leader and pleader with good look.

Blessed and wished family,one son and two daughters,
Family betterment,his aim and beseeched attainment,
His wards all bards of software,today all engineers,
Era of drawing,like ploughing a graceful wonderment.

Day of retirement,a sun ray so bright Oh! Pari!
We do pray ever be happy and never be sorry.

Yesupatham Savarimuthu.