Satish Verma

Gold Star - 37,157 Points (5-6-1935)

Modesty - Poem by Satish Verma

In fever, I will
always see butterflies
landing on your nose.

White, yellow, black.
They come and go and I am
sitting under a cherry blossom tree.

Stroking you, cajoling you
to drop the wings.

In grass the sun waits
in a dew drop.

The moon was not a poor thing.
Will come in white robes
to preach.

Topic(s) of this poem: poem


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Poem Submitted: Friday, January 29, 2016



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