The Pink Tree
The Sunday morning bathed in morning haze,
The roads not yet trodden, the air still fresh,
The winter Zephyr looming in the environment,
The environs, suffused in an eternal excitement,
And there I saw, amid the green trees,
A tree so pink, blossoming into blissful beauties,
It had emerald leaves, concealed within the budding pink flowers,
Some detached, some still clinging to the fragile twigs,
The tree standing on a cerise carpet,
Formed by the wilting flowers shaded scarlet,
The tender breeze aggressive to bring the pink pearls down,
So gorgeous, so timeless, the pink tree stood fading in the wintry dawn...
K.S.Lakshmi
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
