Touch -me-not plant, Oh , touch -me-not plant, Who gives you such sensitive power?, Luckily you are escaped from the plougher, My grandma used you as a herbal, And your value cannot be conveyed in verbal.
Oh, touch -me-not plant, Are you a mere sleepy plant?, I am a shy plant.
saddling sandstorm soul
shedding stealthy swift shy smile
showcases silence
30 August 2021
Cascading clouds
Walking ahead swaying
Black waterfall
Butterfly interrupted.
Fear grips the flowers
eaten by the winds.
I seek the guilt for
not walking on the dunes
to build a sky.
The cracked roof
lets in the rain. I
drench my driftwood.
One day a god will sit
on my altar to speak
to ailing mother-
earth hauling away
the burden of waste
of human verbiage.
Satish Verma
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