+6Water is brilliant, clean and clear.
That makes us people away from fear.
It is use to drink to remove our thirst.
To be always joyful and always be first.
Water is a gift from God to conserve.
And it is our responsibility to always observe.
This poem was written/submitted by annabella manicdao.
+1Beautiful rain, when are you gonna fall, if you don’t come soon, I’m gonna have to give you a call!
Beautiful rain, Beautiful rain-
Beautiful rain, you’re staying on my mind, just a drop of you is so hard to find-
Beautiful rain, Beautiful rain-
Beautiful rain, come quickly from the night or morning sky, my flowers don’t bloom and my grass is starting to die-
Beautiful rain, beautiful rain-
Beautiful rain, Beautiful rain-
Beautiful rain, come in the morning or come at night, just to see you come, would be such a beautiful sight-
This poem was written/submitted by Dorsey Baker.
0The streets were grimy, and the rivers dried,
The sun shone swiftly and the water sighed,
Said that it could live no more,
In that place so well off; but still poor,
In a place where it(water) was a mere waste,
Condemned and thrown; all in a haste,
And from that day, it happened so,
There were neither ships nor boats to row,
Since the oceans and seas were no more than,
A souless and crimpled man,
The flowers in the garden that once,
blossomed had now become mere puns,
for writers and poets and great men,
they(flowers) were limited only till their notebooks and pen.
The bees and birds that flitted around,
The flowers and trees even in a bound,
Was a mere imagination for people like me,
For once we had seen how actually is a bee.
Now that children just read in their books,
About its physical appearance and looks,
And of course, they’re a part of history,
The tragic death of a little bee,
It was the last one that survived on earth,
And died after few minutes it took birth,
It died of sadness when it found,
There were neither flowers nor trees around,
And that was the day I lost all my hope,
That we humans, would ever find a rope,
To climb and reach that place again,
A place with plenty of water and rain.
In a melancholy mood, from my window, I peered,
And suddenly a tiny raindrop appeared,
And with tears of joy in my eyes,
I stared at the melancholy skies,
And one after another, they appeared in a number of few,
Even in an imagination, my dream had come true.
This poem was written/submitted by Trivarna.
+4The streets were grimy, and the rivers dried,
The sun shone swiftly and the water sighed,
Said that it could live no more,
In that place so well off; but still poor,
In a place where it(water) was a mere waste,
Condemned and thrown; all in a haste,
And from that day, it happened so,
There were neither ships nor boats to row,
Since the oceans and seas were no more than,
A souless and crimpled man,
The flowers in the garden that once,
blossomed had now become mere puns,
for writers and poets and great men,
they(flowers) were limited only till their notebooks and pen.
The bees and birds that flitted around,
The flowers and trees even in a bound,
Was a mere imagination for people like me,
For once we had seen how actually is a bee.
Now that children just read in their books,
About its physical appearance and looks,
And of course, they’re a part of history,
The tragic death of a little bee,
It was the last one that survived on earth,
And died after few minutes it took birth,
It died of sadness when it found,
There were neither flowers nor trees around,
And that was the day I lost all my hope,
That we humans, would ever find a rope,
To climb and reach that place again,
A place with plenty of water and rain.
In a melancholy mood, from my window, I peered,
And suddenly a tiny raindrop appeared,
And with tears of joy in my eyes,
I stared at the melancholy skies,
And one after another, they appeared in a number of few,
Even in an imagination, my dream had come true.
This poem was written/submitted by Trivarna.
+3Sitting on the veranda,
Leaning on my chair,
Sipping hot tea,
My sight caught a small bee,
Passing through the air.
It flapped its wings,
And rested on the floor,
Spared a glance with me,
Looking at my dynamic tea,
Which I thought that I would easily ignore.
I stood there waiting,
And watching the sky,
Wondering what it ought to do,
Would it sting my eye,
Or reposefully set out for the blue.
But neither it did,
And stuck to the floor,
And said,
“This is a place,
with lot of space,
Indeed I would like to explore”
And from this day,
There was neither brightness nor gay,
For the bees stopped wandering near the flowers,
The flowers dried,
And tragically died,
Despite having drops of sunray.
They never complained,
For whatever we gained,
Making use of their innocent emotions,
Then they freezed,
Without a word said,
That they were all dead,
Neither flowers nor trees,
And their wonderful breeze,
This is how the human life did cease.
This poem was written/submitted by Trivarna.
+4How good I’m feeling!
How nice is this feeling!
Looking at the trees around,
Watching at the sun round…
How soft is this grass!
Also nice the way all things pass…
Children going to the school,
As according to their schedule…
How calm is this surrounding!
Feeling with it a close bonding…
Now the church has also passed,
This memory will always last…
How sweetly these birds chirp!
With a romantic burp…
Just passed love birds..
Might be having with each other some words.
Waiting for one of my favorite scenes,
Like a lover as it seems…
See, it has come…..One railway line, with trees on one side,
I’m smiling in my heart side by side…
So relaxing are these sun rays……
Seem to be kissing on my face..
Really soothing this feeling is….
Really serene this morning is…
Just received a ‘Good Morning’ message,
from one of my friends.
As it’s a common
and a good wishing trend…
Thanks to these trees, thanks to the river,
thanks to the grass and the way these pass…
Thanks for giving such a nice starting to my today’s pass……
This poem was written/submitted by Deepika Gera.
+4So sad to hear that the old poetess has died
She was a credit to her countryside
So much of Nature’s ways that she did know
In death her legend it will only grow
On saying so I’m not saying what is new
That as a Nature Poet her equals only few
Her bird and animal poems in them have beauty rare
A Nature Poet with any to compare
A natural poet one who was born to write
Her lyrical verses easy to read and recite
A humble person in her own quiet way
Respect to Nature and Nature’s creatures in her poems she did pay
And in Nature’s earthy bosom her remains now lay
The great poetess was buried yesterday.
This poem was written/submitted by Francis Duggan.
