Name It Poem by Minnoor srinivasan
Name It
Breeze wooed and whispered
In the rustle
Of the ear-leaves
Of the tree:
“I love dear”
The tree in a mood,
Self forgetful,
Spoke to the breeze;
“I pine for you”
So, the breeze replied
“You are the tree pine”.
Saturday, December 24, 2011
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4/19/2024 3:38:57 PM # 1.0.0.1119
