Nature, makes fly,
on the flower,
in morning hour.
The tiny bee,
one can see,
not she lazy.
The naughty wind,
of future seed...
behind this game,
in her realm.
Neela Nath's Other Poems
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Comments about this poem (Behind This by Neela Nath )
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Still I Rise
Edgar Allan Poe
I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
William Ernest Henley
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