Crocheting Love Poem by Akhtar Jawad
Crocheting Love
Spring left alone and summer is no more,
Both he saw off with tears at the shore,
He is now just melting orange of Wordsworth,
Hands on skies and foot on the earth,
The daughter of sun with a crochet in her hands,
Dressed his bed with comforts of lands,
The father is now old and tired and bent,
Scratches on his face and body with a dent,
He is bidding farewell to the autumn of life,
Count down is sharp and working like a knife,
Ahead of him is a cold winter night,
In the crochet she wrapped, what a lovely sight!
As if her father is no more than an infant,
Crocheting love is a nature's grant,
Forgetting his life time painful dejection,
He slept for dreams with aurora of affection!
Great work! Thanks for sharing this poem with us. E.K.L.
His daughter has in her heart pure love that she embraces her father by looking after him lovingly! Heartwarming write!
Yes a mother's alternate is a loving daughter. A lovely and beautiful poem. I refer Hazrat Bibi Syeda who looked after her father and was called Umme Abiha.
Crocheting love is a nature's grant, Forgetting his life time painful dejection, He slept for dreams with aurora of affection! .....................beautiful poem sir...
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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5/4/2024 8:57:04 AM # 1.0.0.1119
First of all I love the title...such vivid imagery as the image of the daughter is remarkable and paints the whole scene...Excellent poem.....