Stood At The Door Poem by Mehta Hasmukh Amathaal

She was dejected and stood at the door
All roses were scattered on the floor
As if to show displeasure at their beauty
Nothing helped her to feel bad and pity

She is not alone and lonely
But gifted with beauty heavenly
I venture to dare at her smile
She care too hoots for while

She has life with stress
I can visible see on her face
Yet it is beautiful and graceful race
I want her to find some lovely trace

She herself is heavenly flower
Smells fragrance when rain showers
Who can understand her than only few?
I have failed to have little glimpse and view

She is alone and at home
Waiting for me to welcome
I rush toward her place
Only to find her smiling face

I would want her hopes to revive
She stands high and definitely survives
What else to feel so lonely at home?
When I am near and make her feel some?

She has all capabilities
There lies her grace and beauties
Her word is last for me and simple
She stands so lovely in dress purple

I have all her greens
She has to stand fast and win
May be she is also very keen
As I have stood near and always have been

My all gestures are warm
They pose no threat or harm
What can I expect from her at this time?
A lovely smile with of course close breathe sometimes

She is life and means for time to tell
I hope everything to go well
Future may stand tall and definitely speak
She has to be strong and feeble or weak

How to define what I am?
The root has to hold with stem
It will create bond and strengthen
She will then not be alone even