Treasure Island

Aftab Alam

(15 th April 1967 / , , RANCHI,)

Beautiful beauty


For a little borne, when sucks the nectar
That comes from the Garden of Eden (heaven)
Into the mothers bosom and lay on lap altar.
Utters 'MOM' the most beautiful word', proven.

A child likes butterfly, dragon fly and lots of sweet candy,
For him mirth is the worth, sweetness of life, aim in life,
At the door of youth, sweet heart, lover and beloved,
Youth and its vigor is the most beautiful,

Ask an old, he will say earth is the most beautiful,
The sweetness has shifted and drifted before he lifted,

Eyes that play withholding beauty prevails beauty,
And beauty that varies, keeps within, beautiful beauty.

Submitted: Sunday, September 22, 2013
Edited: Thursday, August 14, 2014

Do you like this poem?
0 person liked.
0 person did not like.

Topic(s): love

Read this poem in other languages

This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.

I would like to translate this poem »

word flags

What do you think this poem is about?

Comments about this poem (Beautiful beauty by Aftab Alam )

Enter the verification code :

Read all 5 comments »

Top Poems

  1. Phenomenal Woman
    Maya Angelou
  2. The Road Not Taken
    Robert Frost
  3. If You Forget Me
    Pablo Neruda
  4. Still I Rise
    Maya Angelou
  5. Dreams
    Langston Hughes
  6. Annabel Lee
    Edgar Allan Poe
  7. If
    Rudyard Kipling
  8. A Dream Within A Dream
    Edgar Allan Poe
  9. Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
    Robert Frost
  10. I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
    Maya Angelou

New Poems

  1. BROKEN TOMORROW, john chizoba vincent
  2. We Were Married, Lawrence S. Pertillar
  3. Games People Play, Leria Hawkins
  4. Who Demand On The God's Lance, Pijush Biswas
  5. At the moment a bit sentimental, Cigeng Zhang
  6. HAVE YOU SEEN MY UNCLE., john chizoba vincent
  7. ADVERSITY, HARDSHIPS, LOVE & DELIVERANCE, Tom Zart
  8. Thoughts, slave master
  9. The Old Man and the Bench, Derek Keck
  10. आंखौ नोँ सना, Ronjoy Brahma

Poem of the Day

poet Helen Hunt Jackson

The month of carnival of all the year,
When Nature lets the wild earth go its way,
And spend whole seasons on a single day.
The spring-time holds her white and purple dear;
...... Read complete »

   
[Hata Bildir]