ON THE MOORS

POEMS
ON THE MOORS


The moor is in a melancholy mood,
With only the pale green shivering grass
Swinging feebly in the rhythm of the breeze,
Awaiting to be trampled and crushed away soon.

The grandpa banyan still stood there,
With leaves shed in the autumn before,
The bare wooden skeletal body lay,
Weak and bend, about to collapse.

The birds so energetic, chirping loud,
Have left the barren trees behind,
The pleasure and vigour of soulful birds,
Resounds ever in the moors below!

The glittering brook has changed its course,
The playful boulders left alone,
The fishes, the frogs, the turtles and all,
Shedding a drop or two for the stream!

The moors lay dry with soul sucked out,
An everlasting quite surrounding them,
An eternal winter has swallowed it all,
Which could not be retrieved by spring again!
Posted by asha at 8:19 AM
Posted by asha at 10:22 AM