Today is a day so calm,
For suffering souls the perfect balm.
Outside a window a beautiful world I see,
A world with no sun to burn you or me .
A world like world of my dreams
A world with birds, flowers and streams ,
A world under cloudy canopy,
A world in which I always love to be ,
Trees, huts ,streams all lie in a grey wrap,
All rocking in nature’s soothing lap.
Grey for most may mean gloom,
But for me it makes my heart bloom.
Let me in this mysterious world reside ,
A world for which my heart always cried
This is the world where I always want to be ,
This is where I can be real me.
3 comments:
The poem lacks a continuity, Spontaneity and is full of cliches and redundancy. These worn out imageries have been too old and rugged, also the days of rhyming poetry that have been obstructing the paths of Classical poets later on have to liberate themselves in Romanticism and lstly in Modernism they realized that 'content' is more valuable than form.
Muktibodh and other renowned Marxist critics like Caudwell, Lukacs, Farrell. have emphasized that true Poetry carries its form with itself.
Thanks for the constructive criticism and for your precious time .
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