When I Sit Down To Write Poetry Poem by Ravi Kopra

When I sit down to write poetry
butterflies come and take my pen
to the plum trees in the valley

Cranes come and take it to the lake
where they come worn out, tired
after a long flight from north

It is their winter home
their paradise, near the plum grove
near the pavilion on the running stream

Where I found my love long ago.
She was standing there alone
watching the cranes near the creek.

When I looked at her, she smiled.
My heart throbbed, went saying -
O my red plum, my sweet peach!