When the morn blooms and grows
Up above the sky and the greenery below,
One can only sing a song of dove,
One can only be an eagle drenched by love,
When the morn with smile greets
When one feels the happy treat
Of flowers woken up from unbroken dreams
Of a blessed state of golden beams,
One can only with full throated ease,
Sing life's mirth to the joyous lease
Flowing forever, blooming true,
Clean and bright, like a poem
Rewound and renewed,
Filled and swept fresh
By a morning's delightful grace.
Saturday, December 14, 2013
When the morn blooms and grows,
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
The State Funeral
At least they have given her The State Funeral With tongue cut, She could not have spoken for The rare award, The police have done the th...
-
That boat of Madhu the boatman Is left tied at the ghat of Rajganj No one is taking it As it is filled with jute raw; If they would give... -
Once the sculpted face Fell and with it fell Our pride Our demons We made love after that By the sides of our past. (For 'Magp... -
What had made Brahm to compose Such a tune, with such poise? What comforting idea made him To put music into such a rhythm? What inexpre...
No comments:
Post a Comment