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Akash Dwivedi Poem
When it gets dark and the clock strikes twelve,
Freezing winds pass blushing the silver bell.
Snowballs move slowly like a trotting horse,
Boisterous breezes push open the casements with force.
Then from dark deep skies, under the clouds shed,
With reindeers pulling the sledge, comes Santa in red.
Long beard, pot belly, and conic hat on head,
Holding the bag full of presents and spells moves to their bed.
Adorned stags nod head and thump hoof,
Snorts slowly as Santa ascends to roof.
Springs into chimney, rests on floor,
Hoofs clatter, bells tinkle bit more, as he opens the door.
Twelve months, several weeks, the season comes to end,
People wait every time for the like trend.
New Year brings along fresh dusk and dawn,
New plans made again, old ones are torn.
Endows our wishes, presents us bliss,
Santa bows down and gives our cheeks a kiss.
Bestow gifts, making us cheer,
Yaps aloud Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year.
Copyright © Akash Dwivedi | Year Posted 2007
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Akash Dwivedi Poem
Man strives throughout his life, to gain affliction,
He is a warrior, for his life, not for the nation.
Since birth, he attempts to win positions,
This marks his ambitions to make collision.
Since the very day he takes birth,
Has to struggle, making life worth.
When an infant, he began to observe,
As he grows, life takes curve.
Arriving to youth, steps up to progress,
With his ammunitions, struggles for desired bliss.
Arising towards his goal never looks back,
Stalking his dream, for success, he never gets slack.
As the warrior grows old, he drops arm,
Retired soldier gets pension as acquired charm.
As death draws its curtains, he tell,
Not to conquer, but to fight well.
Copyright © Akash Dwivedi | Year Posted 2007
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Akash Dwivedi Poem
Walking with me, it moves along,
Contorting with me, to me it belong.
It’s tied to me as a chain,
I know it’s with me, it would never wane.
There lies poise between it and me,
Grasping me, never allows to flee.
Together we go, without any tiff,
Casting my image, it stays stiff.
It survives in bright, perishes when it’s dark,
It does exist on a spark.
Following always, it never goes astray,
Stuck with me, can’t think of betray, it always stay.
Gives me sense to be stronger, as I walk,
I halt on the way, admire it, if it could talk.
God knows, why it is made so conventional,
Unceasingly it swings parallel.
At a certain time, everything departs, saying farewell,
Except for my shadow, the one will always dwell.
It certainly is the symbol of faith and duty,
It is the only companion, who has eternity.
A dark image staying in me,
Forever as one could see.
As long as I will be,
I desire to see, no ‘you’ and ‘me’, but a ‘we’.
Copyright © Akash Dwivedi | Year Posted 2007
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