Thursday, June 20, 2013

Preciousness in one



There she stands, red as blood, dancing in solitude
Yet glistening her natural beauty to the roaring wind
Everyone who's ever been to Ramjar 
Digs under cover from the passing Mr. wind
But say whatever for she stands tall
Defying the odds of he who tries to shy her off
      Its no use Mr. wind
      As she's pure as she portrays 
      One can feel her presence from yard's distance
      For she isn't withering anytime soon
      Oh! mother of love, isn't she beautiful?
My mind yearns to ask; aren't you ever lonely?
For you're all one in over field's distance
But I know too well without her answering
That it's in the solitude with which she mesmerizes onlookers
      Nobody dares to touch her even with love
      And who could? for she's just one
      Even seasons seem's to be in no hurry, why?
      Oh, I forgot..... She's rose, isn't she?

11 comments:

  1. Very nice poem you have written sir.

    Loved it a lot. Enjoyed reading!!!

    ReplyDelete