My Village Home Poem by Poola Bala Venkat

Where the sound quells down to embrace silence
Where the sky sings delighted by mesmerizing nature
amid fields my house stands like a flowering tree
from the tree the sweet poems fall like flowers.
In the day light the palmyra trees nearby look like tall soldiers
The distant hills look like Egyptian pyramids
during the night the wells sleep and the frogs croak
from the tree the sweet poems fall like flowers.
At the silent hour of twilight the flowers fill the air
with fragrance to worship the golden morning.