Wednesday, April 20, 2005

It hasn't grown
the family moans,
Such a wild and ugly tree.
Ma defends it, as mothers will
"'tis Nature running free".

Dad shakes his head
He's heard it said,
there are beauties in the park-
glowing, vivid, sparkling still;
Our tree is dull and dark.

The years have flown.
Now Summer's blown
it's warmth into a spring sunrise.
I wake at 6 and look outside
lo! a radiant red surprise.

My bottle-brush blooms
O'er all it's glory looms.
God's own gift to me today.
Fat luscious flowers
in splendid bright array.

The garden is re-born
No longer forlorn
We’ve been hungry for this sight.
Ma proudly beams
She knew her gem would give delight

(c)Anita Vasudeva, March 2005

(In a week or two, the bottle-brush flowers wilted and once again there is dull, dark green outside my bedroom window. But now I know there's a magic asleep in there, and one spring morning, once again........)

5 Comments:

Blogger Known Stranger said...

thatz excellent. beautiful words reaching the hearts

7:00 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

excellent writings anita good work

Vinod..

4:26 AM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

You got the rhythm, Anita!-Madhavan.

2:30 PM  
Blogger Max Babi said...

hi Anita,
good poems here I saw these by pure serendipity...good work.
Doesn't it feel, I mean blogging,
as if you are a vendor sitting with tonnes of hopes and nothing else on a desert island?
cheerz!

10:11 AM  
Blogger Blogging One's Own Trinkets said...

Keep it going. Good stuff.

2:02 PM  

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