The Poetry... Poem by Vikrant Jog
The Poetry...
Somewhere in the woods,
There she stood,
Tipper-Tapper rain drops,
Nurturing blazing crops,
And there she was, soaked wet,
Waiting for transition in fate,
Birds chirped the waterfall divine,
Her innocent presence serene,
No one never; there came,
She but only was to blame,
Wet and nervous she returned,
Laughing at her cry subtle,
By no means should this happen,
To the known or anyone,
The moon glowing down,
Glowed more at her frown,
At her hut; Why me?
Psycho-Social glee,
Now its me,
Not a soul with me,
Just stepping up worthy,
To sing a lament poetry....
so meany pure feelings of poetry.the ending is so marvelous.but why a lament poetry? bravo~nb
Beautiful imagery embracing artistic creativity in all it's wonder!
Somewhere in the woods, There she stood, creates a different world; have you ever thought whom she is waiting? ? However your poem is nice. I appreciate.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/26/2024 5:35:56 PM # 1.0.0.1119
Oh i loved it, with the element of raindrops something i much inspired by, you did a nice poem..lamentation of poetry can be good but dont go deep in emotion in you, so u wont drown in your own tears_Soul