When the wind blows whistle and signals for the gale
He shuts down doors & windows as the tree leaves hail
His little daughter jumps in joy, ignorant of peaked wind scale
Fearless of the horrendous storm she waves to the gust
When he interrupts, she screams, “No, let me say Hi to the dust”
Why do you need to greet the filth outside?
She turns back angrily, with her tiny eyes open wide
“Dadda!, when wind blows, dust particles from everywhere, roam
You never know, which one of these belongs to grave of my Mom”
Too good, lovely thought :)
ReplyDeleteNasir
DeleteThanks for your appreciation. Keep visiting my space :)
Bonito poema.
ReplyDeleteG
Whatever it means, i am sure its something nice G.... Thanks :)
DeleteBeautiful poem. It's what that meant :-)
ReplyDeleteAhh!! The last two lines touched my heart! Lovely Priyanka!!
ReplyDeleteSri Valli...
ReplyDeleteAh, so you are finally back... Thanks for your beautiful remark and let me tell you, you were missed :)
Ah...so touching, love....loved it :)
ReplyDeleteI have no words. This was something way more than just beautiful.
ReplyDelete