I think I see the mighty hills of Darjeeling.
What magnificence, it is that they bring!
Bold as a King, so high its peak.
Where the oaks grow densely and so do teak.
I think I hear a whistling of Toy Train.
Elevating the twisted track, so slow they gain.
As small as an ant climbing up the King's feet,
Singing and moving while sounding so sweet.
I think I observe a little streak of falling tear,
Fall from the eyes of Darjeeling, the valiant emperor.
I looked amazingly at the beauty he brings.
All hail Darjeeling! Our benevolent King!
Now you've got the idea.....keep writing, you can only get better and better! You've got the gift. Pat yourself on the back my boy, ya done good! Cheers! (There's room for polish....tense for example, at the beauty he bring.....should read, at the beauty he brings.)
singing and moving all are so sweet, I like it, thanks. I invite you to read my poems and comment.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
beautiful, i never been to Darjeeling the place seemed amazing before but after reading this piece i wish i was there to witness the beauty my self