On silent trees, on hanging breeze,
On sun’s shared moments shaping these
A river’s rush cools dappled leaves,
Cast in a myriad dancing forms
Across the clouded azure bed
That nestles soft above my head
And holds no hint of summer storms,
Or how dark winter’s wrath performs,
But keeps a silent peace instead:
Yet though the air is still and crickets sing,
My thoughts turn back, and worse hours spring to mind –
And contemplation turns to fire each sting,
And whips my savage soul to cringe, then shift its fling
From such bleakness with a shrug –
‘Tis too terrible:
I find myself again, and mind the time,
And settle down to hear life’s brief rhyme and ring.
Sept. 00
Lying under the dappled leaves of a tree in summer, recollecting humiliations and embarrassments.
Here’s a nice poem I found
By Akshat Bhoot Thu Jun 23rd 2011 at 2:20 am
a very nice poem!!!!!!!! 🙂