Guardian feb 23
FOUR SEASONS GONE
Four seasons gone,
No more waiting, 
No waiting for flowers, birds
Songs of their own season;
By the ponds or riverside,
By the huts or flats, mood 
Of songs , verses overflow,
Touching the like minded,
Poetry alive now ;
Each time, you move,
Each move you undertake,
Each vibrant verse, you sing
with  inspired mood
and move
ahead, filled with echo of patriot
and his sacrifice ;
 verses   and
poems will  go on
undisturbed, warriors name 
in boards and signs stamped.signs stamped.

No comments:
Post a Comment