Tag: Poem

While we play
And are fresh as squirrels in the day
You work night and day
Yet keep tiredness at bay.

You go out of your way
You help us every way.
On this special today
I wish you, Happy Teachers’ Day.

While we comfortably on the bed lay,
You worked for us, night and day
So, in reverence to you this day,
I bow my head today.

Happy Teachers’ Day.

Teachers show the path of success,

And fill our life with colours.

They never give up someone or love more or less, 

Their teachings can’t be bought in dollars. 

Sometimes they act as leaders, scholars or mentors, 

But they will be our friends on all the rocky shores.

They teach the ones who are present and miss the absentees

In these dire times, they are busy as bees.

These days we are locked indoors,

But the teachers are still working from their home. 

So that we don’t miss our study chores,

Our parents architect our statue at home

But teachers work to make a nice loam.

Now we see the teachers on the devices,

My salute to them who are teaching in this crisis.

Beauty is in the face,

Beauty is in every natural case.

Beauty is in the eyes.

Beauty is to help the one who cries.

Beauty is in you and me,

Beauty is in the blue sea.

Beauty is in the touch of an infant,

And beauty has the power to enchant.

Natural beauty is not the grace,

Beauty is to capture memories in the briefcase.

Now-a-days artificial looks are found in mobile,

But real beauty is in an unselfish smile.

Today I am on cloud 9

You ask me why?

It is because I always want to shine.

Today I am on cloud 9.

 

I like soaring high in the sky.

You ask me how?

By not being shy.

Today I am on cloud 9.

 

I chase my dreams with all my might.

You ask me how?

By working hard even at night.

Today I am on cloud 9.

 

Today I am on cloud 9.

I thank everyone for everything.

I ask for blessings to help me shine.

Today I am on cloud 9.

My desire’s to have a pair of wings
To soar across the azul sky
I aspire to drift across sunlit waters
I wish I were a butterfly

I’d flutter my wings to sit on
The nose of the woebegone boy
I’d savor every moment of life
I wish I were a butterfly

It’s time to fear the world ends here…..

Everything was on fire,

Was our earth on funeral pyre?

l was petrified,

Due to heat everything was liquefied.

Mother Earth was about to shed its tears, in an atrocious fear.

All her production, had turned into destruction,

Due to the greed of human evolution.

Every soul is crying ‘cause it’s not clean,

Earth is dying because it’s not green.

And the world ends here, no time to say goodbye,

We all are gone and we all know why.

Suddenly I woke up at night, thanks to my ringing alarm, that gave my dream a good bite.

As I opened the window, I felt the gentle breeze,

Among the swaying trees.

Hearing the song of birds, 

I was speechless with no words.

Then I saw the sunshine, what a beautiful day!

Under the trees, we can run and play.

Oh! God are you the creator, an artist, painter, imaginator.

All this gave me relief,

But now my dream has turned into real belief.

That it’s tomorrow’s reality,

We all have to change everyone’s mentality.

To not cut trees and deforestation to freeze.

We have to save mother’s flourishing nature.

No water to drain, will try to get more rain,

We will try our best again and again.

You see me,

I am a tree,

From all hardships of life,

I am free,

don’t you agree?

But now maybe more of me you won’t see,

What have I done?

The problem is,

That root of destruction (what was it again?),

Before which if you run,

You will seek yourself in vain,

On the pristine clothes of humanity it puts a disgraceful stain,

Summer, Winter, Spring, Autumn or rain,

From running behind it you should refrain,

You think I am lying,

Ok fine go running behind it down the drain.

And now what is it called,

If I don’t remember it that’s not my fault,

Oh yes it’s that m-mm-mo- yes MONEY,

I am getting old,

But for your needs I am still bold,

So then keep your legs on hold,

I can give you things better than gold,

‘Cause I am the one, sonny,

Who gives paper for money,

When friends and I can give you honey,

Why do you run for money?

Some human who had some brains,

Who had REAL blood in his veins, spoke: 

I think that the old creature is right,

For the trees we must fight,

If we want to live,

Trees have to survive,

We must repay them,

‘Cause they give us precious oxygen,

They have always given and never taken,

I won’t ever see anything as glorious, majestic, clean and beautiful,

As a tree, 

Aren’t these words correctly said by me ?

There can be nothing like a tree,

These words are not just said by a nature-loving-dude like me,

But by every one who loves the tree,

Don’t you agree?

It’s not yet over if that’s not how you wanted,
for He will bless you as your deeds has He counted.
Don’t fear what you’re doing is erroneous, for it may seem to be enigmatic and gruelling at first,
but isn’t that how you understand the mystery of love?
Mystery it seems, history it may become soon,
but the gravity it contains, that’s a fathomless room.
Be buoyant, be sanguine, that’s what will earn you credit when He ranks you in.
Humanity, altruism and benevolence is what He looks for,
that’s when a happy ending might seem not so far.
Who created ignorance and hatred, may I dare to ask?
For a gracious and truthful heart is what I looked for from the start.
Now that you know what it is that makes the end happy and desirable,
do you vow with me, to ameliorate yourself, a promise undeniable?