bouquet. garland Poetry Ramar Pichi

The Flower Called Ramar Pichi

The flowers white with red stripes light

bloom with fragrance every night

could I say for most  in the evening

spread an aroma  around almost stunning

the smell enters the nostrils

keeps us in a trance with its fill

the flower is not huge  in shape

very thin and fragile, soft and  slim

a joy  to twine them together

make a garland to God or rather

tie them into a bouquet  small

put them on the head carefully as not to fall

the way every Indian woman wears

that be the Ramar PichRama pichii in choice.

Beauty Diamonds thoughts Transitory

The Beauty of the Morn.-An Allegory

Tiny dew drops shine like diamonds ,

They oscillate over the fragile green grass,

Shimmering in the glistening sunrise,

A beauty not to miss every morn.


Little buds peep out from the nodules,

They are in red, rose and blue,

Dancing in the morning breeze,

A beauty not to  miss  every morn.


Small children walk up the road to school,

They chuckle and chatter as they move,

Exchanging friendly gestures and pep talk,

A beauty not to miss every morn.


The glory of the day lies not  in calls,

The charm of the hour is not based on tries,

The contentment rests on impressive sights,

That take us to infinite heights.


The beauty of the morn is not to be missed,

It has to be repeatedly cherished,

The dew drops, bud and child are personifications,

Of transcendental truth and  exuberant bliss.