Welcome Visitor: Login to the siteJoin the site

you cannot be truly called a poet unless to write at least one on nature !

Submitted:Apr 12, 2010    Reads: 71    Comments: 2    Likes: 1   


I stand in my lonely balcony

wanting some solitude and calm,

Hoping that the wondrous nature

acts as a soothing balm.

I give a sigh as I stand there

soaking in her serenity,

Our selfishness has made us forget her-

Oh ! It's such a great pity.

Then as if hearing my woes

the sky changes its hues by the hiding sun,

A dazzling light streaks with a roar

and the heavy grey clouds burst open.

From them drop million glittering pearls :

falling on my face first,

Then my hands and my whole being-

as if to quench my soul's thirst.

The rain flows down my body

washing away all the gloom,

I feel like a bird about to fly,

I feel like a flower about to bloom.

We strive to hoard materialistic things:

in them we try to find happiness,

When in fact the joy obtained from mother nature

on no account is less.


| Email this story Email this Poetry | Add to reading list


About | News | Contact | Your Account | TheNextBigWriter | Self Publishing | Advertise

© 2013 TheNextBigWriter, LLC. All Rights Reserved. Terms under which this service is provided to you. Privacy Policy.