The lane laden with shady trees,
Gave no hint of the ruthless vast ahead.
Shocked was I, as the traveler,
Scorched by the sight that lay ahead.
I tremble and quiver with the leaves,
As they wither off dry and parched.
Worn put by flute of time,
Frayed by each passing moment in time.
Such harsh tunes that nature plays,..Perhaps
To hone us for the harsh tunes that nature plays.
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Im amazed…Now I hate my poem ..its so simple..I think I will rewrite it …and then will send it to you
Long trail as it seems
Pattered in colors
Straight lane shaded with trees
Countless leaves clothing the branches
Allowing few rays
Trailing through the earth
I’m a traveler walking in this lane
This is heaven on a desert land
As I continued my path, I counted my blessings
A head of me a new trail furnished new journey
Trees seems to shrink in front of my eyes
Worn out by flute of time
And the passing wind, seem to be unkind
Even the sun lost its empathy of love
Burning away the leaves
Evaporating its life
The branches had no place to retreat
Collided into desert heat
Heap of sands scrubbed into its fragile trunks
Sharps claws with the will of wind
Here are my hands
So tide in sheltering fragile trees
How come at times even nature plays harsh tunes
Welcome here Nasra..
.. why do u hate your composition ? ?
..dont we just put abstract emotions into absolute words when we write poetry,.. so that.. there is no place to “think-before-you-write”…you have expressed what went through your intellect at that point of time and were honest in expressing it.. so dont hate any of your compositions.. each one is worth the attention
Loved these lines
This is heaven on a desert land
So tide in sheltering fragile trees
Thanks Deepa, Im not sure why I called u Prya…
no problem 🙂