POEM: AUTUMN THE KING OF ALL SEASONS

Copyright@shravancharitymission

POEM: AUTUMN THE KING OF SEASONS

When summer retires,

Monsoon tires,

Autumn arrives,

Before the winter strikes.

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Is when the summer gets over,

Monsoon gets slower,

Nights become pleasant,

And days a merriment.

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It’s time for the harvest,

When farmers fill their pockets,

But then the days begin to get shorter,

And the nights longer.

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Horizon gets hazy,

Daylight gets dimmer,

Sun changes its line,

Is when darkness multiplies.

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In the art of poetry,

Autumn strikes the chord of melancholy,

When summer is gone,

And winter is on the horizon.

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Skies turn grey,

Usable daylight, drops by the day,

Where, makeup of the day,

Changes in the wake,

And night broadens its base.

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It’s time for jumpers,

As the dawns are chilly,

Mornings are foggy,

Days are smoggy,

And nights are wintry.

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As I step out of my house,

The air is heavy,

The breeze is frisky,

And where the sun is fussy.

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All along the meadows,

There are long shadows,

But between the shadows,

There are divine hallows.

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Autumn sounds like winter’s cousin,

No doubt the favourite of my seasons,

That announces the string of festivals,

And with that the celebrations,

So it indeed is,

The king of all seasons.

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By Kamlesh Tripathi

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https://kamleshsujata.wordpress.com

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Shravan Charity Mission is an NGO that works for poor children suffering from life threatening diseases. Should you wish to donate for the cause the bank details are given below:

NAME OF ACCOUNT: SHRAVAN CHARITY MISSION

Account no: 680510110004635 (BANK OF INDIA)

IFSC code: BKID0006805

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POEM: MORNING WALK

Copyright@shravancharitymission

By Kamlesh Tripathi

MORNING WALK

Is like the retreat in heaven,

As refreshing as the fresh breeze,

Arising from the seas of all the seven,

While it starts from the break of day,

And lasts till the last drop of frost in the blade.

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It prepares me for the day,

And detaches me from the wearies of my yesterday,

It sinews my vision,

And orchestrates my system,

To fire the spark of momentum,

That leapfrogs me to meritorious action.

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When I see the sun rising

The birds twittering,

The animals stretching,

Insects trancing,

And humans jogging.

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It beguiles me to act,

Warrants me to react,

To take on mighty life each day,

Where, I stand as a dwarf.

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And while walking every morning,

I plan my day,

Introspect my bygone years,

And rekindle my aspirations,

That execute, my ensuing destinations.

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And as I walk around the meadows, the sun rises,

And with that my hope augurs,

Is when the refreshing breeze, huddles me around,

Only to tell me I’m not alone in the walk of life.

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And to take me to my morning walk,

The earth rotates and the galaxy acrobats,

The sun shows up at the horizon,

Where the cool breeze comes as an x-factor.

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For everyone has a part to play

Where the rising Sun brings about the warmth,

The mystic breeze the freshness,

And your workout the spice for the day.

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One day when I missed my morning walk,

I felt,

I missed my day,

Lost my warmth,

Waylaid my health,

And scattered my hurray!

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Since then I show up each day,

Doesn’t matter summer, winter or rains,

As morning walk is the purest of the pure

Act of my day.

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