His Artistic Creation Poem by Aaryan Irani

A morning like every other
In the grey bus we were,
Just when it took a stop
When on a tree did my eyes drop
Like a nymph, most wonderful, tall it stood
With its arms swaying as swift as it could
Among the olive green ones
That sprout from the earth
All connected in a line,
Upon which shone the sun,
Were the woven roots
Wiping Gaia's tears
With which it bears its fruits
The white bark smiles
To see an admirer pass by
Such a colourful treant,
Would a dull soul deny
Upon its tender branches
Its bosom bears flowers pink
So vivid and strong,
Its leaves painted in ink
And a flower twirls down the sweet air
Kissing the earth in times of despair
One would sleep under this star's arms
A star indeed, for it shines bright

Its a shame we blocked the sight,
For the grey wall covers it on one end,
And the grey fence on the other