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Veda Turaga Poem
In winter's grasp, the world doth sleep,
A frosty breath, its secrets keep,
Yet through the still, a melody,
Chirping birds, a symphony.
Upon the boughs of skeletal trees,
Their whispers weaved with icy breeze,
A harmony of crystal air,
A song of life, a love affair.
The snowflakes dance, as whispers call,
From feathered throats, a chorus enthralled,
An aria of contrast, bold and bright,
A celebration in frozen twilight.
A velvet sky adorned with gems,
A lunar light, the night befriends,
And in the hush, a gentle sway,
The world awakes to greet the day.
In winter's heart, the songbirds sing,
Defiant warmth, their voices bring,
A testament to life's embrace,
A serenade to nature's grace.
Copyright © Veda Turaga | Year Posted 2023
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Details |
Veda Turaga Poem
In somber twilight's quiet embrace,
An orphaned child with tear-streaked face,
Gazed upon a golden fruit,
A symbol of solace, grief to mute.
The fruit hung high, a treasure divine,
A mother's love, that once did shine,
A beacon bright of memories dear,
Its glow bespoke of love sincere.
Alas, no arms to hold, to guide,
A void where once a heart resided,
In wistful dreams, the child would roam,
To find the warmth of love and home.
The golden fruit, a spectral sigh,
An echo of the lullabies,
A fleeting glimpse of what had been,
A mother's love, a bittersweet hymn.
Copyright © Veda Turaga | Year Posted 2023
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