In a fit, of good and bad
Under, the spell of beauty
Memories become past
Neither photo-shopped
Nor air brushed-
Absolutely spotless
Virgin and chaste.
The scent of an artist
Full of beans
Putting-
Colours to life
Intentions don't lie
Don't recline the pictures
Time waits to find
Who'll have the last laugh?
When-
Most of the stuff
Found to be vulgar
Vulgar and degrading
But not always.
Rather sharing
Hassel-free experience
With concern and hope
Searching stories
In stones and rocks
Flowers and flower-pots
With notes new and old
Live for all times
Superbly polished inside.
The theatre twist
Outside the gardens
Not so bad after all
Be it, short of-
Natural freshness
And original fragrance.
Copyright © hrsharma
Ludhiana, Punjab, India.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem