Details |
Nabashis Dev Misra Poem
When you wake up at 6 O'clock Am, and take a look from your window
You see an amazing sight, a beautiful light makes the sky glows
You feel a power comes when you inhale the breeze of the dancing flowers
You hear the sound of the singing birds even if they are on a high tower.
you hear the angels whispering in your ears.
You begin to cry from touching the sky happiness.
Then you find a cute child wiping your tears.
you see a light of hope, with beuatiful colours, and cute faces.
The sun hiding behind the rainbow
The sky snowing violently like a blow
A moment just when I wake and feel it,
I wish I could back in time again to feel it.
Copyright © Nabashis Dev Misra | Year Posted 2015
|
Details |
Nabashis Dev Misra Poem
Of all the breeze that just passed by me,
Of all the wind that touched my knees.
I remember the days of the olden scrapes,
Of all the exuberant but dull etches.
A window and the express called for me,
The frame carried all the folks close to me.
Every town and every city it reckoned,
Searched for mine but nowhere round.
I opened the window to search the folks,
Wandered through the streets and all the roads.
To find them I crossed over all the bounds,
But nowhere to find they were nowhere round.
The fellow mates escorted me to the target
They cheered with me but defied in the grey.
We had our sails set in a flock, all in all for the call,
I always abetted and stood as a rock.
With the handful memories I clutched my mug,
The coffee strong with the German bread.
With passengers round I walked upon my call,
They blissed they cheered but passed the looks in weird.
I called for them in the moaning songs,
My voice cracked and lashed at the shores.
My sail was bound to the coast far-flung,
All throughout, my folks were not around.
Copyright © Nabashis Dev Misra | Year Posted 2015
|
Details |
Nabashis Dev Misra Poem
Sitting in my room,
i stare sharp at sky;
a mountain of dreams
i see, as clouds floating by.
Stars on the backdrop twinkle to me,
as a ray of hope in the darkness i see.
Passerby, moving figures,
are just a waste;
you'll loose your clouds
just by a glimpse in haste.
If lost, you still have time to learn;
next day, next night, your clouds will return..
Copyright © Nabashis Dev Misra | Year Posted 2015
|