Without Wait Poem by Mehta Hasmukh Amathaal

Oh, Summer
Lot more to suffer
More palpitation
Deep breath with inhalation

Sign of weakness
Clearly seen on face
As if like dry leaf
Have stay for brief

Little forceful wind
May shake trees of any kind
Will cause fall of leaves on ground
Motionless and as if dead are to be found

It is autumn
Natures summon
To shed the old
And return to fold

Old makes way for new
This fact is known to few
You may shed few tears
But one has got to bear

One will have to depart
Even though remained for long as part
It is gradual process
One feels heavy about it on face

It is cycle
In full circle
Nothing new
One bye one to come and renew

You feel rain
The long drain
Then comes cold
We return to fold

It moves on without wait
We call it luck or fate
It may not change
Will affect at any age