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Poem

What if much of life's lost to humdrum world? 
To waste get withered when simplest of joys, 
Nature's rare scene when finds none of your voice, 
Innocent, pure pleasures pass by unfurled— 
Beauty of dawns, dusks, daises decked in dew, 
Hills and dales crying for our company, 
A gentle cool breeze gets when none her due, 
And goes unheralded birds' symphony, 
Sea bares when breasts to embrace silver moon, 
Raw passion peaks of a youthful river, 
Clouds play with moon new joys to deliver, 
Seasons when change, sun warms when wintry noon. 
   At home with the ho-hum of humdrum leisure, 
   Man plays blind to nature's many a pleasure.
 _____________________________________________ 
Sonnets | 05.04.2004, revised Sept 2022 | 

Poet’s note: Man seems so much at home with the humdrum of life that he is oblivious of nature’s joys that can excite and inspire him. All he has to do is to be a little more receptive. One gets this impression on seeing the world chasing the ephemeral, fleeting, and man-made joys.

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