Moisture sets in the night,
Cooling the spaces light ,
Condensing and accumulating bright,
Over the lawns, cars and flowers overnight.
The pearl like dew sparkles ,
Like opague crystals,
Dancing to the whistles ,
Of the early dawn fills.
The droplet over a petal red,
Is a sensational thread,
Leaving us in a spell-bound led,
Capturing the thoughts in a stead.
The fixation is laden with enthusiasm,
As it holds a lot of realism,
Bringing to light the geniality of altruism,
Which falls hard on the existing scepticism.
Dew reflects the state of impermanence,
In a cryptic bubbling brief reference,
We , mortals, fail to comprehend the insurgence,
That reigns supreme over our feigned innocence.
Dew drops disappear in the late morn,
They f
ades away like a timid fawn,
Man too is a distinct born,
Destined to pass away in the forlorn.
Meenas Poems 