“Every heart sings a song, incomplete, until another heart whispers 

back. Those who wish to sing always find a song. At the touch of a 

lover, everyone becomes a poet.” 

― Plato

CLIMBER

Climb the mountains fast

Before the summers are down

Before the wild fire burns the wood

Mould your dreams into action

You are the architect your time

Catch it before it slips through the sieve

Cradles

Mothers make cradles with words

And swing them

To and fro

To lull babies to soft sleep

Swiftly and gently

Gifting them a RHYTHM for Life

Creation

I throw a stone

At

The silhouetted tree

And

Birds flow like words

That fly from the pen

That fly to settle down softly

On the paper ,the safe nest