The color of a flower
The twitter of a swallow
The humming bees
A river that is shallow
Golden eras, cold dark ages
Tales of love, of chivalry
Victory’s crown, the defeat’s cages
Festivals of old, gone harvests so merry
So much and so much more
Evokes in me a gift
To return the essence of times left
And resurrect a moment cherished
With words soaked by life’s dew
Painted in emotions of all hue
In hallowed words possessing a gifted touch
The most prevailing power of such!
Though it’s named inspiration in a word
I call it, a poet’s secret gift!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem