Tag: Poem

He hops and jumps from tree to tree,

In his pads of furry white,

And from his great, high place he can see

The stars which fill the night.

 

At dawn, he greets the sunrise true

And dances free in fire trails,

He wants to lie in fields of grass and dew

But instead gets pierced with iron nails.

 

In bushes, and shrubs he carefully makes

An escape from those savage hounds,

He hides in ferns and brakes

But instead gets smashed in bullet rounds.

 

The tribal chief, he sits back in the chair

Takes his time with the cigar,

He pauses to think through this affair

And catches that bunny from afar.

 

When midnight comes, the shepherd’s dogs

Hunt and track him to his den,

They fright and shout and laugh these hogs

For a piece of meat, from their grinning men.

 

When he stays, they decide to wait on his track

Headman sets the strongest one loose,

His scrawny nose turned dark black

He bravely leaps up the noose.

 

Next dawn, he silently hears

The cries and shouts of his dears,

This morning, he was lonely at his hole

Dancing from pole to pole.

The lockdown has taught me how to be more creative,
And get more engaged with my relatives.
It has taught me how to live with limited supplies,
As the spread of this disease multiplies.

It has made us work, play and study online,
But don’t worry, it will all be fine.
It has taught us to spend more time and love our family,
And that the ways to carve our future are so many.

Who am I ?
It’s so hard to say
all of my thoughts get in the way.

I just can’t seem to find my way to happiness every day.

Until I can break away from my fears
I’ll find myself sleeping through life’s best years.

Who am I ?
Now I might say
I am part
of this wonderful day.

I am anything
my heart declares
for the fear no longer
strangles or tires
my will to enjoy
life’s great pleasures
Its joys and happiness
Its natural adventures.

Now I look forward
to each precious moment
instead of living
in darkness and torment.

Why, oh why
Oh my ,my
I coach and coddle
And cuddle and kiddle them
And then
They talk about papers-
Forgetting their winning capers-

They’ll be talking about
Stone and scissors next
Or of the importance of the
Written text,
And be afraid of
Silly stuff like the grammar
I say
Why be a crammer…
And then they ponder
When they should fly
And I ask myself
Why,oh why???

विस्तृत विश्व ,भाषाएं अगणित
स्वर भी सबके अपने हैं,
कानों में रस माधुरी घोले
तो समझो वह हिंदी है।

सुगम सरल है, सौम्य सहज भी
उच्चारण शुद्धि लाती है,
जिव्हा पर विद्युत सी डोले
तो समझो वह हिंदी है।

बुद्धिजीवियों की कोई भाषा
कोई पठन-पाठन ,अध्यापन की,
जन की बातें ,जन से बोले
तो समझो वह हिंदी है।

सौंदर्य की भाषा, ज्ञान की भाषा
लावण्यमई कहलाती है
मां की ममता याद दिलाए
तो समझो वह हिंदी है।

 

स्वप्ना तिवारी

 

In the journey of creative pursuits,

I have my own hypothesis.

Poetry is not an incidental outcome,

It goes through a process of poeto-synthesis.

 

In the fertile lands of imagination

A seed comes and lands.

Whether to nurture it or not,

The choice is in your hands.

 

In the soil of feelings,

The seed of poetry is grounded.

Hear hear, this is how,

A beautiful poem is founded.

 

In the sunlight of language,

With the oxygen of observation;

With watering of rhyme scheme,

Ideas take wings of imagination.

How beautiful is the nature!!!

This is how a butterfly looks who has such beautiful features.

She spreads her wings like a beautiful shower

And sucks the nectar from her home, the flower.

 

Every action of this fly, seems to be a wonder

But do we all know, her childhood was such a bother

She was born in the form of a Caterpillar

Who ate huge leaves and kept growing bigger.

 

The time came when she needed to lock herself in that ugly cocoon

And she herself told her eyes and body for the last time to see Uncle Moon

She was not able to complete her wish or her dream

To fly with her friends below the clouds of white cream

 

But the power of nature is divine

After some days, the Butterfly came into the world with an attractive shine

The lesson learnt from her life is to never lose hope

Whether the condition is difficult and does not have much scope

 

Throw out those thoughts which eat up your mind

And follow the path which makes you wise and kind

Path of success was never made straight

You yourself have to build up your path to reach the destination gate

 

But remember to never lose hope!

Like the butterfly emerges

Lets out her beautiful wings, 

A butterfly grows and develops, 

With the love her mother brings. 

Someday the butterfly has to fly off its darkened cocoon, 

Someday the snake has to come out of its barren skin, 

Someday we have to come out of our old nests from which we’d dreamt. 

This butterfly with the golden wings, 

Does a very special thing. 

It catches everything that’s bad, 

Those dreams and thoughts that make you sad,

Then seals them in a golden cocoon, 

And carries them far past the moon. 

Then it returns the very night, 

So that you wake up with love and delight.