Gardeners Poem by Sumita Jetley

Beneath the neem, where shadows play,
We sit with plants through night and day.
The air hums soft with jasmine's bloom,
And every breeze whispers sukoon.

My maalis chat, with smiles so wide,
Their wisdom flows like rivers glide.
"The gulab, madam, is such a star—
Full of drama, like a film bazaar."

The squirrel dances near the mango tree,
Stealing fruit with playful glee.
"Woh hum se bhi zyada smart hai,
Sabse pehle kar leta hai nasha hai! "

We prune the shrubs, and sip on peace,
As silence wraps us, a sweet release.
Each flower that blooms, each leaf that falls,
Teaches life's lesson—one and all.

"Madam, " they say with a playful grin,
"Zindagi bhi garden jaisa hai within.
Patience is key, like rain from the sky,
Without it, nothing can grow or fly."

Hibiscus bows, the jasmine sings,
The neem tree hums of deeper things.
In every laugh and every glance,
I find myself in nature's dance.

The moments stretch, like time's embrace,
A garden not just of plants—but grace.
Here I bloom, as the flowers do,
In sukoon's garden, old and new.