Nature Is A Just King Of Itself Poem by vittal vandavasu

Sweet summer flowers bloom
Songbirds sing mellow tunes
The trees make the breeze their groom
It was one of the long awaited afternoon

A little boy wished the trees would talk back
Strangely uncontempt with the opulence
The clouds had a long time to turn black
This is where dreams danced with nature's elegance

With a plaudit a flower is not to bloom
And with a rant it is not to shed
With a sinister thought one cannot bring gloom
And a rose was never painted red

Nature is a just king of itself
It is good to die knowing everything went alright
For a dieing life's dream, what else?
Sometimes even bliss is bored of it's might