Vera Sidhwa


Vera Sidhwa Poems

1. Tropical City 9/15/2011
2. Pink And Yellow Flowers 9/18/2011
3. Your Halo Far Away 10/16/2011
4. Youth Is In Full Bloom 10/16/2011
5. As I Saw The Orient 10/16/2011
6. Song To Thee 10/29/2011
7. Colorado Rocks 10/30/2011
8. Philosphy Of Zen 10/30/2011
9. Something Hidden 10/30/2011
10. Halloween Song 10/31/2011
11. I See It Is 10/31/2011
12. All The World Was Glass 10/31/2011
13. Love 10/31/2011
14. Hello 11/4/2011
15. Morning 11/4/2011
16. Carmegeddon - Highways Of The Earth 11/5/2011
17. Life Be Not Proud 11/5/2011
18. Far Away 11/5/2011
19. Stand-Still Picture 11/5/2011
20. Mirror, Who Am I 11/11/2011
21. Johnny Walker 11/11/2011
22. Black Heaven 11/11/2011
23. Discovery 11/11/2011
24. Don'T Ask You? 11/11/2011
25. Thinking Of Evel Knevel 11/11/2011
26. Hoggy The Cop 11/11/2011
27. Just Not Right 11/11/2011
28. Beauracracy 11/13/2011
29. Quicker 11/13/2011
30. Silver Reflectors 11/4/2011
31. Law Of Nature 11/4/2011
32. Train That Went Around The World 11/4/2011
33. Red 10/29/2011
34. Writing Manic 11/13/2011
35. Cover Song 11/13/2011
36. Dance Of The Romance 12/12/2011
37. Large Bowl Of Fruits 12/12/2011
38. Me Thinketh Thou Doth Talk Too Much 12/22/2011
39. Is It Really So 12/22/2011
40. Don'T Like To 12/22/2011
Best Poem of Vera Sidhwa

Children On The Streets Of India

The girl of twelve told me,
A different but then the same story,
That boy of four told me,
His idea of what life should be.


But I different from them,
And yet the same.
Couldn't understand that life's game,
Couldn't even spare THEM,
These very newly arrived, happy and eager ones.


Their laughter, giggles and grin,
Their baby souls with hardly a sin,
Would eventually face such challenges,
That even many adults wouldn't.


These were children of another reality.
But these children were just like others,
With conditions ...

Read the full of Children On The Streets Of India

Tropical City

Speak to me of youth, and breezes warmed by the sun
The breezes that falter down cool alleys
In the city built in the sun

Speak to me of flower vendors, and the beggar boys that run
The old ones who stagger through dusty roads
Of a city built in the sun

And I'll tell you of a hundred days when I wished all was well

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