Prasad Natarajan

(April 2nd 1983 / Bangalore)


Dew soaked naked blades of still grass,
Collect reluctant rays of the morning sun,
While sounds of Coucal break the glass,
Tailor birds rest, in nests, they spun,

Last of the soft cotton burst from its breast,
Fickle leaves dance their way through streets,
While adamant mist on window is a guest,
Great egrets flew away leaving behind cold receipts,

Wild goose cuddled their bitter nights now,
Shy moon beams lit those pratiksalya walls,
While harvested fields no longer kiss the plough,
King of frost has arrived! I hear his winter calls.

Submitted: Friday, December 20, 2013
Edited: Friday, December 20, 2013

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Poet's Notes about The Poem

Long coming, after many days of blank page, while staring at the misty windows these words kept fighting to be written.So, their wish have come true.These words have been released to nature again.


©Prasad.N 19th December 2013.
All rights reserved to Prasad.N

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