Dr Shamim Ali Poems

In the land of Chitral there is Kalash,
Where the mountains rise and the rivers splash,
There lived a girl with eyes of green,
The most beautiful sight I have ever seen.
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The Month of December
In Quetta city where snow abounds,
December came with icy sounds.
A winter's chill, so sharp and clear,
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Snowflakes dance in the winter sky,
A beauty that catches the eye,
Each one unique, a work of art,
Etched in water's dreams from the heart.
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I miss the snowy night of Quetta,
When the world turned into a magical vista,
Watching from my window with delight,
As snowflakes fell from the sky all night.
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Oh, October, thou art a painter bold,
With palette dipped in autumn's richest hues,
A tapestry of red and yellow, told,
In every leaf that in the wind pursues.
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November, thou art a somber shade of gray,
As autumn's splendor fades into the past,
The vibrant leaves have long since fallen away,
And in your grasp, the world seems wistful, vast.
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December, thou art a month of quiet grace,
As winter's breath bestows its gentle chill,
The world adorned in frost and silver lace,
In thee, a tranquil calm we find until.
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In the realms of Urdu and Persian tongue,
A visionary poet, his praises sung,
Iqbal's verse, with depth and insight's might,
A lasting impact, a guiding light.
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In shadows deep, where weariness resides,
A soul exhausted, where hope subsides.
Constant battles, a weary heart contends,
In a life of discord, where solace bends.
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In the vale of shadows, where mountains stand tall,
A tale of sorrow echoes, a haunting call.
Kashmir, the land of dreams and despair,
Solidarity binds us, a burden we share.
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