The Beauty Of My Beloved Ma'am Poem by M. R. Malik

Listen to your crescendo voice,
Cherished us like the bulbuls and sparrows;
Recalls those days in the honey sunlight,
In the shade of trees,
in the twittering of birds
And in a meadow you taught.
Never forget your teaching peculiarly
in the memories of sleet,
in the sleeping rain,
During the freezing winter,
in the brisk morning breeze,
in the revival of creatures,
in the sweating summer
and in the shedding leaves of
autumn...
Imbued words into my blank paper by your 'quill smile'
While lying in the lawn to gaze at your flattering face;
Calling you 'Asmat maam'
and your fellows
as 'unrivalled ovals' in the woods.
to the flower buds and rows,
to teach us psychology
not for reading our minds,
But to redeem them.
my consciousness is as the ocean where still you live in;
Those floating memories recall your name - roving from mountains to forests, from rills to corn fields.
and finally pause in you.
At your bade farewell, I could not drop my tears because you rest in my eyes! you just pass to me as a melody wind that it holds nostalgia and I want to rejoin the past.